This Life
by punkydiva17
Summary: *Story Completed* "We were best friends...we came up together...how could everything go so wrong?"
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

"Great match, Amberlea!"

My good friends John Cena and Randy Orton were waiting for me in my locker room at Ohio Valley Wrestling when I came in after my match with WWF Diva Molly Holly. John extended his hand to me, blue eyes sparkling as I slapped him with a high five. "Man, when Molly gets back up there and tells Vince what a worker you are, you're _sure_ to get onto the main roster!" he gushed. I blushed; I couldn't help it. Sometimes I swear John is my own personal advertising firm and cheerleader all rolled into one.

"I don't know about that…" John scoffed, cutting me off.

"You sell yourself way too short, Lea. It's clear Randy and I have been doing wonders with you in the training department, because you hung out there with the best of the best tonight."

"Stop it - you're making me blush!" I chuckled, staring over at Randy Orton, who sat in the corner of the room, massive arms folded over his chest, his beady slate eyes never leaving me. His brown hair was slicked, short bangs down across his forehead, dressed in a baggy blue polo shirt and blue jeans. He's a moody guy, who always seems hard to approach and angry about something, but people never realize that it's just the way he is.

Out of the two, John is the more outgoing of the bunch, more easy to approach. I met him last year while we were both working for XPW in California, before we both happened to get snapped up by WWE and sent down to Ohio Valley Wrestling for further training. John and Randy were roommates, splitting the cost of an apartment, while I was rooming with an indy wrestler by the name of Lisa Marie Varon, who is working at the moment under the name Victoria.

Sure, life is tough down here in Ohio Valley Wrestling, where we're making tiny amounts of money and covering our own living expenses the best way we know how; I, for one, work part-time as a cage dancer (fully clothed) at a club downtown. But once a week, John, Randy, and Lisa Marie, all get together and go out for dinner. It's kind of our way to stay grounded, connected and sane when all the pressure of being the best is mounted on us. Especially Randy, who has a huge family lineage in this business going all the way back to his grandfather.

"So I cleared it by Lisa, and she's fine, but is dinner good for Saturday with you, John?" Normally, we do it every Friday after the tapings, but this week Randy had to drive into St. Louis and spend some time with his family. His grandfather, wrestler "Big O" Bob Orton, Sr., was coming in from Nevada. Randy shrugged.

"You guys just always could go without me," he murmured. I rolled my eyes at his moodiness.

"Don't you even start, Randal," I chastised him. He cocked his eyebrow at the mention of his full name; he always reacted when I did that. "It wouldn't be a night out without you and you know it." A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips before he broke out into something of a smile, satisfied that I had put a quash on his negativity.

"Yeah. Saturday is fine with me," John replied. "I was going to ask; my dad's coming in from Boston to come see me…do you mind if I invite him to dinner with us? I'd feel bad if I just stuck him at the crib and took off."

"Of course he's more than welcome, John. It'd be great to finally meet your dad." I turned my attention to Randy. "Did you want to invite your family?"

"I don't know…" Randy murmured.

"You don't have to, but at least extend the invitation if you feel like it? I'm sure your parents would like to see you more than once a month."

"It's normally for just the four of us," Randy protested. John turned to him, his face a mirror of bewilderment to mine. He sighed. "But I'll pass it along."

"Good stuff. Anyways, I'm going to head out into the crowd and watch you guys go at it."

"Which one are you going to cheer for?" John inquired. I shrugged.

"Whoever's winning." We all laughed, and I hugged John, flashing Randy a mock salute from where I was standing before leaving the locker room. It's always been moments like these that makes the indy life worth it.

_**John Cena**_

I met Amberlea last year, when we were both starting out in XPW last year. She's a few years younger than I am and a year younger than Randy, which says a lot about how crazy into this business she is. One night, she told me that she had started working the local independent circuit in her hometown at fifteen, lying about her age to promoters, before making her way down here right after high school with three years under her belt. Never mind the fact that she is drop dead gorgeous - like, model gorgeous - but Amberlea Brennan is a firecracker in the ring as well.

Lea's a ten. All the way across the board. She's tall with a hot body. Beautiful, with curved brown and blonde streaked hair and wide hazel eyes that always seemed to give away every emotion that she feels. Did I mention that she's a wildcat in the ring?

I took her under my wing at XPW. In fact, we were actually roomies at one point, for about a week, before we got picked up by OVW and moved all the way out here to Louisville, Kentucky. Jim Cornette's old lady Synn is pretty awesome; she plays the mother role with the young girls here, Amberlea especially since she's just a little shy of twenty. When she thought that a nineteen year old girl like Lea was going to be rooming with me, she squashed it right away. No way was she letting that happen. I guess she had some past experiences with other guys coming up. She set Lea up with Lisa and set me up with Randy as a roommate.

Randy Orton is a very interesting character. A moody motherfucker that exudes the confidence of an old timer. He brings out the best in me in terms of ring skill, though I'm unsure if I do the same for him. Sometimes I wonder just what he thinks of Amberlea; the way he watches her with beady eyes, as though his mind is forming something about her that he can't quite find the guts to say. I don't think he likes her very much, but it's just strange. When I ask him about it, he barely says anything, anyway. He's a man of few words. Never wastes a move in the ring, never wastes a word outside of it.

I stepped out into the little walkway that would take me to the OVW ring, where about fifty fans were booing the hell out of me and my Prototype character. A huge part of me dreams of what it would be like when the ramp is extra long, when the ring has _Raw_ on the sides, and when the fifty fans are fifty thousand. I know Amberlea dreams of it, I know Randy dreams of it. I guess the dream of headlining _WrestleMania_ keeps us going when we feel at our worst. Keeps me going. Being the WWE Champion one day would be a dream come true, and a good improvement over the cardboard belts my brothers and I used to craft and battle for in our back yard.

Inside the ring I waited for Randy. He made his way out, looking just as stoic and moody as he had in the back while we were talking things over with Amberlea. I turned around; she was there, in the back, leaned against the wall, dressed in her ring gear with a leather jacket over top. I winked at her and she gave me a mock salute, a smile tugging at her lips.

The match wasn't a long one; the main event was Leviathan, a guy by the name of Dave Bautista, who was fighting Kane, a huge grab for Jim Cornette to get considering his WWF schedule. But I was determined to make it as good of a match as I could, and Randy is a perfectionist in the ring. Sometimes perfection isn't even good enough for him. When the match was over, and I had hit the Proto-Bomb and defeated Randy Orton, I saw Amberlea cheering for us both, clapping her hands, a wide smile from ear to ear on her face. At the end of the day, she was our biggest supporter. I couldn't be more thankful of that.

_**Randy Orton**_

Backstage, when I had cleaned up and was getting ready to leave the arena, I found Amberlea waiting outside for me, leaned against her motorcycle. "I still can't believe they gave you a license to drive this thing." It was still relatively new to her, and a huge part of me is jealous of her for it, since I've wanted to do it. Never gotten around to it. One of these days. It was an early birthday present from her father back in Austin, Texas. He had paid for her to get her motorcycle license. Had given her one of his old ones. It had been nerve wracking meeting him; a big, burly biker guy with a beard that would have made the members of ZZ Top hang their heads in shame. I think she said his name was Charlie. Her mother died when she was young in a car accident that Amberlea herself had barely survived. She has a nasty scar on her head, but lucky for her, the hair covers it. Charlie should count himself lucky; most parents worry about their daughters getting hooked on drugs and getting drunk; Amberlea was training for a career.

"I still owe you and John a ride on this bad boy," she replied with a smile. I approached her and checked out the motorcycle.

"Kawasaki ZX 9R. Very nice," I mused. It was a candy apple red with matching rims. Obviously custom work. She did say her father ran a body shop for cars and motorcycles, though, so it wouldn't surprise me. She stared at me with wider eyes than normal.

"Good shot. I didn't know you were into motorcycles."

"One of these days I'll get my license," I told her. "How does it feel to be on one of these?"

"Total freedom," she told me. "Sometimes I still wig out when I make a turn on the road, but just the feel of the breeze ripping through the air, through your hair…it's incredible."

The doors opened and John walked out, approaching us. He whistled low. "I know you said it was nice, but god_damn_."

"Thanks, Johnny; you're too sweet," she informed him. "Anyways, I should get going before Lisa calls a search party. She just about had a heart attack when this thing arrived." We all laughed, but a huge part of me was relieved to know that if John and I weren't around, at least Lisa was there to play mom to Amberlea. "I will see you guys on Saturday." She hugged me; I could smell the scent of her Vanilla Fields perfume teasing my senses. "Drive safe, Randy, and say hello to the family."

"Will do, Lea. See you on Saturday." With a wide grin and a hug to John, she was on her motorcycle and gone in a flash. John and I turned and walked towards my car; it was my turn to drive us home. "I can't believe her father gave her a fucking motorcycle."

"I know. Crazy, huh?" He shook his head. "I think I'll pass on the ride until she gets some more experience on her belt. No need for her to kill my career before it gets started."

"She made it out of the parking lot just fine," I answered. We snickered as we slid into the car. It was nice to go home after spending just about the entire day at the arena, going over matches, getting advice and performing. My night involved a shower, a bottle of Budweiser and Pantera's _Far Beyond Driven_ album.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_

_**Randy Orton**_

My dad is "Cowboy" Bob Orton, Jr., a second generation wrestler who competed in the first three _WrestleMania _events. He was known for two things; being "Rowdy" Roddy Piper's lackey and for the cast he wore on his arm for a good three years. A lot of people thought he was faking his injury; that couldn't be farther from the truth. It was because of my father's strong work ethic to never miss a show that his arm never healed properly. It wasn't until he left the World Wrestling Federation in 1987 that it finally healed up, but it still gives him some problems.

My mom, Elaine, is a nurse, and a soldier if I've ever seen one. After all, she practically raised me, my brother Nate and my sister Becky all by herself, since Dad had to travel all the time. They pretty much sacrificed their marriage to give my siblings and I a stable upbringing. 

I wasn't a normal kid by any stretch of the imagination. How many kids can say they had Andre the Giant join them for dinner? Or had an extensive collection of toys from places like Japan and India? 

"How's it going down there in OVW, Randy?" my dad asked over dinner. My mom had gone all out, like she normally does when I come out from Kentucky. Never mind it's only a two hour drive, you'd think I was coming back from overseas. Becky was picking at her food; Nate was watching me intensely. 

"Good, good. Cornette says that my last match with John was off the charts awesome for something that was only five minutes long."

"Awesome stuff. Hopefully that should mean that you'll be in WWF sooner, rather than later."

"I hope so, too. Sometimes it's hard staying patient when you see all your friends get called up to the main roster."

"I know. But some people's time comes sooner than others. You just have to keep consistently getting better, so when you finally do get called up to the main roster, you don't fizzle out." I nodded. I'm always in awe of my dad, who has always been such a fountain of wisdom for me. He's the first person I go to about any sort of problem I have. His stories on the road with guys like Ric Flair, Harley Race and the aforementioned Piper always keep me in stitches. I always wonder what my dad was really like when I was a kid, not old enough to know about the things that he was doing on the road; I always wonder about the duality in his role of being a father and being a good-time loving wrestler. It just fascinates me. 

My parents weren't too impressed when I told them I wanted to be a wrestler, after my stint in the Marine Corps went to shit. Nothing like finding out the brochure is a total crock. After I finally managed to get free of that mistake, I decided to focus all my free time on wrestling, and once my parents realized that I was dead serious about it, then they were on the bandwagon. It wasn't long after I had got everything down that Dad had called up WWF to book me a tryout match. Sure, that's a perk of being a third generation Superstar, but I still had to bust my ass and look good. Thankfully, I looked good enough for Pat Patterson, who my uncle Barry is very leery of, and from there, I got signed up. Haven't looked back since. 

Mom smiled at me. "How are your friends doing?"

"Good, good. Amberlea just put on a hell of a clinic with Molly Holly. Buzz going around backstage is that Vince is going to snap her up sooner rather than later. I think John's almost ready."

"That's wonderful. I'm glad you've got some great friends out there while you're not at home."

"That reminds me…we usually go out for dinner once a week, and Amberlea asked me to invite you guys, if you're up for the drive. We usually meet at six at TGI Friday's." They all nodded.

"Sure. That would be awesome. We'll finally get to meet everyone."

"Yeah. John's dad is coming out to visit him, too, so you'll get to meet him, too."

"Awesome stuff." I took a bite of my mother's amazing mashed potatoes. Sometimes it sucked being so far away from these kind of moments, but in the end it is so worth it. 

In the end they are going to be so proud of me. 

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

I'll never forget March 22, 2002, for as long as I live. 

When I had finished my morning ritual, I found a note from Lisa Marie saying that she had gone into town to do some grocery shopping and to get herself a new pair of wrestling boots. Crumpling the paper and throwing it into recycling, I checked the clock. It was after eleven; I had slept in. I decided to straighten up the house for Lisa Marie; that way she could come home to a nice clean house and have a quiet night in when I went to work at six. 

The wrestling bug hit me at a very, very young age, when my dad and I took in an independent show in Austin. Up until then, I was pretty much relegated to watching it on TV. But when I saw it live, it lit a fire in me. From then on, I spent all my time working on being flexible, using my trampoline in a lot of cases to mimic moves. I think I gave my dad quite a few coronaries over the years. He worked a lot at his bike custom shop, and from the time I was twelve, I was pretty much by myself to do whatever I wanted. Not that I ever took advantage of that; outside of wrestling, I didn't make the time for much else. Even now. Never had a boyfriend. Never been on a date. I've just been all about the business. Driven. 

My dad never remarried after my mother died. Still hasn't even dated. I know some of the women at home are interested in him, but his heart truly belonged with her. A huge part of me ever wonders if I'll find somebody like that. Doesn't seem like it the way I'm going. 

I still remember the night my dad found out that I'd been lying to wrestling promoters about my age in order to compete. For my eighteenth birthday, just before I graduated and left town for California on the back of my friend's flatbed truck, hidden under a tarp, my father threw me a surprise party at the show, thinking that I only hung out with them monthly. The promoter just about shot me on sight when he found out I was just turning eighteen. As mad as he was, I know he was impressed that I captured things as quickly as I did. From there, I left for California, competing for XPW where I met John, who was floored to learn about how old I was, and offered me his couch. He's been a true friend of mine since I moved out here, and for that I am eternally indebted to him. 

Slipping Sevendust's _Animosity_ album into my portable CD player, I began to vacuum and do the dishes, thinking about the match I had with Molly Holly. Where I could have improved, where I was strong. Molly had told me that I was one of the best independent matches she had ever had, which totally makes me feel good about myself. Molly, or Nora, was trained by Dean Malenko, who is considered to be one of the greatest technical wrestlers who ever lived. If Nora can give me a glowing recommendation, then I have to be pretty good at what I'm doing. 

_Trust _slipped into _Crucified _when the phone rang. Wiping my hand on a dish cloth and turning down my CD player, I quickly answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello, I'm looking for an Amberlea Brennan."

"That would be me," I answered, taking the receiver to the table and sitting down. "May I ask who is calling?"

"My name is Jim Ross; I'm with WWF's Talent Relations department." My heart stopped; Good Ole JR sounded so different on the phone. "Anyways, the reason I'm calling is because you're being called up to the main roster. We're going to need you to get packed, get your affairs in order and be in Las Vegas, Nevada, for Monday."

My heart was in my feet. I thought I was going to scream. My throat was suddenly dry; I couldn't speak. My dream was about to start coming true. "Hello?" JR's voice cut into my moment. "Ms. Brennan, are you still there?"

"Yes, yes. I will be there," I told him, trying to keep the giddiness out of my voice. 

"That's terrific. We will be booking you in a tag match with Trish Stratus. Can't wait to see what you can do. Have a great day, Ms. Brennan."

"You, too," I answered. I hung up the phone, sitting for a few minutes, trying to take it all in. This was it; I was officially becoming a WWF Diva, with the likes of Trish Stratus, Molly Holly, Lita. Then, something inside me broke and I started jumping and screaming like a total mark in the middle of my living room. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God!" I shrieked. I picked up the phone again. I had a few very important calls to make. 

_**John Cena**_

"Yeah?"

"John, it's Lea."

"What's up? I was just heading to the airport to go pick up my pops," I informed her, sliding a Red Sox cap on over my head. "Everything good? Someone at work giving you trouble?"

"No, no - I still have to quit…John…I got the call like an hour ago."

"What?" A wide beam broke across my face; I couldn't stop it from spreading. "Lea, that's amazing. What…details. Details!"

"I have to be in Las Vegas for Monday. I'm going to be tag teaming with Trish Stratus, John! This is so incredible. It hasn't sunk in…I think I'm in shock…so much to do…this is insanity! Oh, God, what if I prove them wrong?"

"Get out of here, Lea. Quit selling yourself short. You have what it takes to hang with the best. Don't second guess it." I slid my keys into my pocket. "Now, I really hate to do this, Lea, but I really have to go to the airport and get my dad. I'll catch you later."

"Okay."

"Congratulations. Now we have something to celebrate at dinner tomorrow." She laughed; music to my ears. "I will catch you later, Lea. Remember to breathe."

"Working on it. Catch you later, John." I hung up the phone and made it out the door, going down to the lobby and to my car. I was going to have to haul ass double time if I hoped to make it to the airport on time. Not that it's Amberlea's fault; I took my sweet ass time a bit too much this morning. 

I couldn't keep the smile off my face knowing full well that Amberlea was having the greatest day of her life, and that she was going to quit that god-awful cage dancing job that she had picked up to help support herself. It's a miracle that it never got dangerous for her, but she is a tough girl; I know she can handle her business if shit got thick. 

My love for wrestling has gone back to when I was kid, watching it with my dad and my brothers. As the second oldest of five boys, we were always fucking around, locking up in different holds and seeing who could make the other one pass out. Typical kid stuff. Hulk Hogan was always my favorite when I was a kid, somebody who I always felt like I could get behind. I was seven years old when Hulkamania swept through America, and I hopped on the bandwagon with ferocity. 

When I went to Springfield College, I was a well-decorated offensive lineman, though I knew when college was over, so was my football career. After a few ho-hum jobs that I fucked up, I decided to bite the bullet and follow my dreams. And I've never looked back, no matter how hard things get. One day, I know I will be one of the best the industry has to offer, and I'll look back on these days and remember how great they were, but how tough they were at the same time and how much stronger they made me. 

My parents are pretty proud of me, though I know they're unsure of my career choice. Every parent wants to see their kid succeed and this is a tough business to hack it in. So far I've done pretty well, though it's been tight and it's been an adventure. But it's all worth it to be able to pursue my dream. Amberlea is the first of us three to leave OVW, but I know Randy and I won't be far behind. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

Every Saturday night, we all gathered at our local TGI Friday's, a favorite place of mine when I was a kid, to eat, talk and forget about the fast-paced lifestyle that we lead in the name of our passions. Lisa Marie and I arrived first, sitting down at a corner table. John had phoned Lisa Marie and told her to get a huge table, since Randy's family were going to make it in. A part of me was surprised; after the slight protest Randy put up about having to invite them, I'm surprised that he did.

Lisa Marie ordered a Shirley Temple, which gave me flashbacks of my childhood. I ordered a virgin margarita, thanks in large part that I'm barely twenty. Another two years before I could let Ric Flair destroy my liver.

John and his father arrived next. I could see the resemblance between the two of them. John was dressed in an enormous Mitchell and Ness jersey and some jeans, while his dad was dressed nicely in a pair of slacks and an olive button down shirt. It was almost night and day between the two of them. In a show of respect, I stood as they approached the table, nudging Lisa Marie to do the same.

"This must be the lovely Amberlea that John speaks so highly of," he said to me, shaking my hand. "And such a lovely, unique name."

"Thank you," I answered, looking at John, attempting to keep the blush off of my face. John sure had a lot in common with his father; they both knew how to charm the pants off of a woman.

John slid into the chair beside me to the left, while John's father sat down beside Lisa Marie and struck up some small conversation. The waitress arrived, flirting with John, and got double teamed by flirtation from the Cena boys. John ordered an iced tea, while John's father wanted some coffee. As the waitress weaved through, I saw Randy with his entire family standing behind him. Raising my hand and ushering him over, he approached with his family, everybody shaking hands and greeting each other appropriately. I never realized how much Randy looked like his father until I was staring into Cowboy Bob's weathered face. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he informed me. "Randy's told me a lot about you."

"Likewise. Please, everyone, have a seat." Randy settled in to my right with his sister right beside him, and then his mother. Everybody else filed to the other side. Bob began talking to John's father, with Lisa Marie listening intently, taking in everything that Bob was saying. The waitress arrived again, surprised to find five more people at the table. Everybody ordered their drinks and she promised to be back in a few minutes so we could all order.

"I think this is the biggest crowd we've ever had out to dinner," Randy mused, an amused smirk on his handsome features. Lisa Marie and John nodded in agreement.

"Is it usually just the four of you?" Elaine Orton inquired. I nodded.

"Yeah. We usually do it Fridays, too, but with Randy coming out to see you guys, I didn't want to exclude him, so we moved it to tonight. Then Mr. Cena came in, so I told John to bring him along and asked Randy to extend the invite to you guys, too. The more the merrier, right?" Everybody nodded. The waitress returned, her eyes sparkling at the image of Randy and John sitting on either side of me, going out of her way to flirt with the two of them while we were ordering dinner. It was ridiculous. Even Randy's mother was appalled at how forward this waitress was acting. I almost felt like we had missed a turn somewhere and wound up at Hooters or something. When she was gone, Lisa Marie and I broke into fits of giggles at the ridiculousness of the waitress. John understood; a wide grin crossed his face telling me he understood all too well.

"Now that we all have our drinks, I want everybody to raise your glasses to Amberlea, who totally got the call to be in Vegas for _Raw_ on Monday." The table went up in cheers as the blush spread across my face. Randy stared at me, stunned; John obviously hasn't told him.

"Really?" A huge grin spread across his face. "Lea, that's _wonderful_!" He hugged me as best he could from his chair, so it was more like an awkward half-hug. I appreciated it all the same since Randy is typically so cold. Everybody applauded.

"Thanks, guys," I laughed. "I'm still in shock myself. I have to leave tomorrow and get checked into the hotel and everything. It still feels like a dream."

"Do you know what match you're having?"

"Yeah. A tag team match. I'll be teaming with Trish Stratus. I don't know who my partners are yet."

"You'll do fine," Randy assured me. "Just remember what John and I have been teaching you and it will all be good."

"I know. Thank you guys so much for everything that you've taught me in the last few months. If it wasn't for any of you guys, I wouldn't be as good as I am. That goes for you, too, Lisa Marie. And Synn. And Jim Cornette, Danny Davis…it really does take a village to make a decent wrestler." Bob Orton laughed at me.

"It takes a village to make a great wrestler, and that's what you are," Randy informed me. I laughed.

"Stop, Randy - you're making me blush!"

"So, where are you from?" Elaine Orton asked me.

"Austin, Texas."

"You're a fair ways from home."

"I sure am. I talk to my dad at least once a week. He showed up a couple weeks ago and dropped off my birthday present and stayed for a few days. It was really great to see him."

"I still can't believe your dad bought you a motorcycle."

"A motorcycle?" Bob Orton cocked an eyebrow. I nodded.

"My dad's kind of a biker. It's not as big a deal to him as it is to other people. I've had my license for a couple months now. One of these days when I have the time, I would love to ride down there and surprise him."

"I'm sure he would find that sweet," Bob conceded, "but you make damn sure you get some extra experience on that bike before you take any long trips."

"Don't you worry, Mr. Orton; I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing if I wasn't sure I could do it." He seemed satisfied with my exhibition of common sense and started making small talk with his wife. That's when our dinner arrived.

_**John Cena**_

"John, I'm in a bit of a pickle tomorrow, but can I get you to give me a ride to the airport tomorrow morning? I'd ask Lisa Marie, but she's gone to her boyfriend's for the night."

"What time do you leave?" I asked. "It's not a problem, just give me the details." Amberlea, Randy, Dad and I were at her apartment, hanging out together before she had to leave. Randy was sprawled out across her loveseat, watching some movie that I wasn't paying attention to.

"I have to be at the airport for six. I hate to have you up and about so early, but…"

"Don't worry about it," I told her, dismissing her worries with a wave of my hand. "I know you would do the same for me if it ever came down to that. I'll be awake, but if you want to give me a call just to make sure…since I'm sure you won't be getting any sleep anyways, then it'll all be good."

"Thank you so much, John," she replied, a relieved smile crossing her features. "I really appreciate it. Next dinner is on me."

"Not complaining there."

"I mean it, John. Thank you so much for doing this."

I could tell her nerves were rattled. Now she was heading into the big leagues, and she was having doubts that she couldn't handle it. I knew she could. She would be surprised at how the adrenaline flows when she's out under the big lights in the big city, taking on the best of the best. Tonight, I didn't think I could feel as proud of anyone as I felt about Amberlea and her being called up to the main roster. Even if he wasn't saying much more than he said at dinner, I knew Randy was bursting with pride as well, considering he had a large hand in training Amberlea to be a decent wrestler, to never waste a movement in the ring and to treat every manoeuvre as an extension of herself. She had nothing to worry about.

"Can I make a tea or something for everyone?" I inquired. I shook my head.

"Thanks, but no thanks, Lea. We should get going. I got to be up early to get you to the airport on time."

"Thanks again, John. I appreciate it."

"I know you do," I replied. I gave her a hug. "I will see you bright and early tomorrow." Randy slung his legs over the leg of the chair and back onto the floor, standing to his feet. He gathered Amberlea up in his arms and gave her a hug.

"Congratulations, Lea. You deserve it. Have a safe flight."

"Thank you, Randy. I'll see you when I get back." He offered her a weak smile, quickly replaced by the trademark stoic expression on his face. When we finally left her apartment after all of our goodbyes, I'm sure she sank down to her couch and had a nervous breakdown.

_**Randy Orton**_

Tonight is a Metallica night.

Tomorrow Amberlea would be leaving for the main roster, maybe working both OVW and WWF before being called up to the main roster for good. Then she would probably move back home to Texas, or back to California, or somewhere far away. I will never admit this in public, but I've come to kind of rely on our weekly dinners as a routine. John, me, Amberlea, Lisa. It's nice to have friends who look out for one another, when you hear so much about the business chewing people up and turning them on one another. I could never see John or Amberlea doing that; they too sweet. But my dad has warned me about a lot of the things he said could possibly go down. It's the beauty of being a third-generation; I have two generations before me telling me what to expect; the good, the bad and the ugly.

A huge part of me hopes that this business doesn't chew up Amberlea and spit her out. She's still young; shit, she's a year younger than I am pretty much. Her birthday is next week. And she's away from home, with no family, young and vulnerable. Sure, John and I look out for her as much as we can, but when she's on the main roster and we're stuck in the independents, it's anybody's game. I just hope she's smart enough to see through bullshit. I think she is, but there's always that little nagging voice in my head that tells me maybe she isn't. After all, she is still, in essence, a child. I still am. John not so much.

I clicked the button on my stereo, putting _The Black Album_ on repeat, laid back in bed with my hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling, reflecting on the paths that our lives were taking. Brock Lesnar got called up last week; a few people the week before that. It was only a matter of time for John, Lisa and I. We all had the skills to get it done in the ring; we all have the charisma to make things work. It's not arrogance, but I know when I get into the WWF that I will be great. Hall of Fame material, even. I think John could be the next Rock if he wanted to be. Sure, we had things down pat here, but once we get called up, we have to be on point every week. My father, Arn Anderson, they all taught me never to waste a move in the ring; to calculate everything, telegraph everything.

John had already gone to bed. I felt a bit slighted that Amberlea didn't ask me to take her to the airport, but at the same time, I actually have a rare morning tomorrow that I can sleep in before getting up and going out to the gym. So, better him than me.

Turning off the light, I decided to just lay in my room with Metallica and the darkness, wondering how Amberlea is going to do in her first match. From what I've heard, Trish Stratus is something of a ring general, so there will be little room for error for Amberlea. She will probably keep it simple. I was more worried about Amberlea backstage with some of the idiots. My only hope is somebody will step in and protect her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_**Randy Orton**_

"Hurry up, John! Jesus, you were just getting beer!"

I checked my watch again for what seemed like the eighth millionth time. Of course, he just _had_ to procrastinate and wait until _Raw _started to go out and get the beer. I had a couple bowls of chips on the coffee table, in honour of Amberlea. Shelton Benjamin, Lisa, Charlie Haas and another female wrestler by the name of Irina. Irina and Charlie were seated on the floor.

"I can't believe she made it already!" Irina pouted, "She's only been with us a couple of months." I could sort of feel her pain. But this girl couldn't chew gum and walk at the same time. That's why she's been stuck at OVW for about a year and a half. A huge part of me didn't think she would make it; not with the current landscape of women's wrestling. Not like I'd tell her that right now; I'd look like a total dick.

The front door finally opened and John appeared with a box of Budweiser. "I didn't miss it, did I?"

"Not yet. Cutting it a bit close though," I answered. John slid his shoes off - I'm pretty anal retentive about no shoes on in the house - and joined us in the living room, manoeuvring the box of beer around the chips and pretzels and peanuts.

"It was crazy at the liquor store for a Monday," John mused, sitting down on the floor beside Charlie. I grabbed a beer and cracked it open. I didn't know how to respond to John's observation, so I just sat back and continued to watch _Raw_, sipping on warm beer that we had no time to chill, thanks in large part to John taking his time.

A huge part of me was worried about how Amberlea was going to fare in her first match, but she had quite the head on her shoulders for her age. Plus, Trish Stratus seemed to be the Divas ring general, so it was a good to know that she was in more than capable hands tonight, even if her opponents wound up being green jobbers.

Finally, I heard Molly Holly's music. She was coming out to the ring with Jazz. I assumed that this was the tag match. Between Molly, Trish and Jazz, I knew at that moment that Amberlea had nothing to worry about.

We broke into cheers when Amberlea came out with Trish Stratus, the two of them dressed in matching outfits. I shook my head; my feelings were mixed about that. On one hand, it looks good that they look like a polished tag team, but on the other hand, it doesn't do anything to establish an identity for Amberlea right out of the gate. Deciding it was probably Amberlea and Trish's idea of feminine bonding, I let the thought go. Amberlea looked so happy; I couldn't tell she was nervous. Trish was talking to her the entire way, a stoic expression on her face, while Amberlea was nodding at what I knew was nothing more than veteran advice.

The match itself was good; Trish, Molly and even Jazz gave Amberlea a lot of time to show everybody what she could do and she didn't let us down. She was tight, solid; no botched spots. The crowd screamed when she hit a standing moonsault.

"Where in the hell did she learn that?" I asked incredulously, practically spitting my beer out. Lisa grinned.

"She and I have been practicing. It's still a little bit sloppy, but she's sure breaking everything out."

"That's what you do when you have to impress," Shelton replied, drinking his beer. I was focused on the match, critiquing every little thing I could so I had something meaningful to tell her when she got back.

"You're awfully quiet, Randy," John observed. I nodded.

"We're helping her, remember? I want to be sure that we can go over this match with her when she gets back." He nodded, sipping on his beer and resting back on the couch. I turned my attention back to the television. I wanted to do everything I can to make sure she succeeds; after all, I know she would do the same for me.

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

Trish and I burst through the curtains, shouting and giving high-fives to each other. It had been her idea to dress alike, to give ourselves the illusion of being a well-polished Diva tag team. I thought it was a great idea. I already had some vinyl pants; but she lent me one of her shirts.

I think I had a great match. Trish went over with a Chick Kick to Jazz, who has been one of her biggest rivals as of late, along with Lita. "Great job out there, Amberlea," she informed me in her soft voice. "I can see why Nora's been raving about you."

"Thanks, Trish. It really means a lot to hear that."

"Your moonsault was a bit sloppy, but you made the target. But you're very solid in the ring. Way better than I was when I started."

"Thanks." I couldn't stop beaming. I turned, crashing into Stephanie McMahon. "Oh, my God! I'm so sorry!" If I hurt her, she didn't show it, or even acknowledge it.

"What a great match!" Stephanie told me, her wide brown eyes even wider with excitement. "You sure made a statement out there. That should be what women's wrestling is about!"

"Thank you, Miss McMahon…"

"Stephanie. Please. Everyone here calls me Stephanie. And, Trish…was this your idea to do the matching outfits?"

"It was kind of a joint effort," Trish informed her. Trish was either being too modest, or trying to make me look really good, because it was entirely her idea. Stephanie nodded, as though she were impressed with our initiative, joint or not. She gave me a congratulatory slap on the back.

"I need to go talk to my dad, but keep up the good work, Amberlea. Welcome to the World Wrestling Federation." I nodded and she took off down the hallway. Turning to Trish with a bewildered expression on my face. She chuckled it off, draping a friendly arm around my shoulder and leading me back towards the Divas locker room to clean up and watch the rest of the night unfold on the monitor.

When I landed in Las Vegas, Trish Stratus was there to meet me, ready to go over our match and to pick me up. I guess the McMahon family or Jim Ross had told her to look out for me on my first time in. Which she had really gone above and beyond to do. From the airport, we went out for lunch, talking about the paths that led us to the World Wrestling Federation. She was a fitness model before WWF came knocking at her door. When she found out I wasn't even legal drinking age - or the age to rent a car - she just about had a heart attack. She offered to be my permanent travel partner, and I agreed to it. Who better to learn from than the woman that was single-handedly getting ready to take the wrestling industry by the throat? Between her, Lita - whose real name is Amy Dumas, Nora and Jazz - whose real name is Carlene, and Ivory - another Lisa!, I figure I should be okay if I have any questions.

Inside the Divas locker room, Ivory, Jacqueline, and Amy were seated in chairs, watching the show progress. The girls started applauding when I walked in with Trish. "Hell of a match tonight," Amy told me. I nodded.

"Thank you." I sat down with Trish. I was so glad there was such a strong internal reaction to the match. Trish, Nora and Carlene had gone out of their way to make me look like a star, and for that, I would be eternally indebted to them. It really was the three of them that made my dreams come true.

_**John Cena**_

I think Randy is a bit salty about the fact I waited so long to go out and get the beer. Had I known he had invited a bunch of people over to watch Amberlea's debut match tonight, I totally would have gone out and gotten it way earlier. He probably figures he told me; he's had a lot on his brain lately. His whole family is a bit worried about his grandfather living all the way in Nevada, while everyone was back in St. Louis. I don't think he'd ever admit it, but I know the family's stress is wearing on him, on top of the stress of being a third generation wrestler trying to fill his family's shoes. It's not easy; I don't envy it.

Amberlea's match was great tonight. The girls made her look like a star, but made it clear the tag match was about Trish and Jazz's rivalry. Trish and Amberlea had a lot of chemistry in the ring together, as did Nora and Amberlea. It was definitely one of the better women's wrestling matches I've seen recently, and I know that if Amberlea was that good on her first outing, then when she reached her full potential, she would be unstoppable.

Randy went to bed about an hour ago. Quiet, stoic. Whatever's going through his head, I couldn't tell you. He's one of those silent types that everybody should worry about, a ticking time bomb, a moody bastard. Not that he'd ever take things out on me or Amberlea. But he does have some unresolved rage issues, I think.

I can hear some Drowning Pool in his room; he was reflecting. He always did that; just lay in the dark, listening to some of his hard rock music. Shaking my head, I put the beer bottles in the recycling and bagged the remaining chips and pretzels. I volunteered to clean up tonight; that's how I reflect.

Amberlea would be back tomorrow, since this was pretty much her tryout match on _Raw_ with cameras. She had already had a tryout match about two months back against Jazz that had seen her get absolutely crushed. Poor Lea had been in pain for three days after Jazz had finished stretching, pulling and slamming on her. But she still never missed a single day of training at OVW. She was there on a daily basis, going over arm drags with everybody down there. Even Jim Cornette had commented a few times for her to take a day to rest up. But she never did. Even when she was at home, visiting with us, she'd test out moves on us, drawing sketches and outlines for promos. She is a beast. Her work ethic is what's going to win her over in the end.

We're a trio that's going to make it in the business, dominating within hopefully the next five years. I can see it. Within the next five years, the three of us will be household names in the WWF, and we'll all look back on these days as nothing more than fond memories. The three of us who made it together on our own terms. I don't even think a novelist could write that shit better.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

I was surprised to find Randy waiting for me when I got off of the plane in Louisville. He was dressed casually in a black button down T-shirt that hung to his knees and jeans. The girls who were passing him by were looking at him like he was some gorgeous male model. He could have been; Randy definitely has the looks - and the body - to be a male model, but instead he picked professional wrestling. To follow his family lineage. He didn't look to happy to see me.

"Where's John?" I asked. "I thought he was coming?"

"He got summoned down to OVW by Cornette. Jim wanted to go over a few things with him, and John couldn't say no to it since it's work. So I volunteered to come and get you."

"Oh. Well, thank you." We walked together to baggage check, through the throngs of people. "You sure attract attention, don't you, Randy?"

"Always," he said with a roll of his eyes. A brunette walked past us, practically breaking her neck to get a good look at Randy, who flashed her a wink. I could have sworn I saw her swoon. "I just made her day," he mused. We both laughed.

When we had my luggage gathered up, we both went outside to Randy's car. "I appreciate you coming to get me, Randy."

"It's not a problem, Amberlea," he replied. It's rare he ever calls me Lea, like John does. I wonder why that is. "I know you'd do the same for me if I ever needed it." I nodded, climbing into the car. He was in the driver's seat in a flash. "How was your flight?"

"Interesting. I think I had a minor panic attack when we first took off."

"Who picked you up?"

"I guess the brass sent Trish to come get me. Which was good. We spent a lot of time bonding before _Raw_ started."

"I could tell. You guys had a lot of chemistry out there. Your moonsault was shit."

"So I've heard." He smirked.

"I'm not the only one that noticed, huh?"

"No. Trish and everyone noticed it. But I've got some time to practice it before next week. It looks like I'm officially an ally of Trish Stratus. It was insane, Randy. I even got glowing comments from Stephanie McMahon herself."

Randy whistled low. "That's terrific. Now, the thing you have to do is set yourself apart from Trish. I thought it was kind of cute that you two dressed alike, but I don't want you to fall into the role of a lackey of sorts. You're going to need to craft your own identity."

"I know," I answered, surprised at all the feedback he was giving me. Normally it's John who rips me apart, but it was nice to have the seasoned hand of a third generation guy who learned all the tricks of the trade from his past generations. He hit a button and Pantera's "Walk" joined us halfway through.

"Glad you quit that cage dancing job," he mused. I was startled; outside of John, nobody's ever uttered a word of objection about it. "You're going places, Amberlea. You're too good to put yourself in danger."

"I appreciate hearing that, Randy. It was just something to keep some money coming in." He nodded.

"I know. I'm just sayin'." He kept his gaze on the road, going silent. It was a bit weird. Very uncomfortable. I stared out the window, happy to be home, but feeling like I had never left. Competing on _Raw_ not twenty-four hours before seemed like a distant dream. But I'd be doing it again next week.

_**Randy Orton**_

She was quiet, staring out the window, hopefully reflecting on the match that she had the night before. Though I'm sure she spent the night in her hotel room reflecting. I'd tell her I was proud of her, but I just can't. Don't ask me why.

Amberlea Brennan has everything it takes to be a great women's wrestler, among the lines of Lisa, of Sherri Martel and even of the Fabulous Moolah. I'm not even bullshitting; I think she is that good. Sure, her moonsault could use some improvement, and she could use to come up with a creative finisher, but she is exactly where she should be as a female competitor at her age.

I thought about John, stuck down at OVW today, on a beautiful sunny Tuesday, probably getting shouted at by an over the top with rage Jim Cornette. John's a decent, solid wrestler, but he's all charisma and heart. Not that it's a bad thing; Hulk Hogan made an entire career out of that, and John has everything it takes to make a career out of it, too. But I know Jim likes to push us to be the best that we can be. Same with Arn, same with Danny Davis and all the other trainers down at OVW. When I finally get called up to WWF, I know I will take every opportunity that I can to thank them for all the work that they've put into making me the best that I can be. And I know John will be the same; for the most part, he's pretty gracious.

"So, what was it like meeting Trish Stratus?" I asked as we pulled into the parking lot of her apartment. "I know she's been one of your favourites for the longest time."

"It was great. She's a very sweet girl. Almost had a stroke when I told her how old I was. I'm kind of her official travel companion now."

"That's good. You could learn a lot traveling with her."

"I know. I figure I could do a lot worse," she said, a soft smile pulling at the edge of her obscenely angelic features. "I don't know if I got the chance to say this to you, but thank you, Randy, for all the advice you've given me. Know that I've always taken it to heart and tried to strive and be better building on it."

"I know you have," I answered, stopping the car. Her words touched me, but for some reason, I couldn't wipe the blank expression from my face. "I'd see you to the door, but I got to get down to OV. Meeting with Danny Davis and Jim Ross, and I still need to clean up and get ready."

"No problem. Call me tonight and let me know how your meeting went," she replied. I nodded and she climbed out of the car. "Thanks again, Randy. Dinner this weekend is on me."

"Awesome," I told her. I could feel a smile crossing my features. "You don't have to, though."

"I want to," she told me. "Good luck at your meeting." She slammed the door, gathered her luggage out of the backseat and took off to her apartment. Taking a deep breath, I started the car and left.

_**John Cena**_

"Arm drag, John! Arm-fucking-drag! That is a hip toss! Are you fucking stupid?"

"Sorry, Jim," I answered. I know he's trying to help, but today he's just making me twitch. I know I fucked up the arm drag; for Christ's sakes, the guy in front of me is so goddamn green he's botching _everything!_

"Well, come on - get your head in the game."

"Don't tell me that - tell _him_," I retorted, pointing over to my opponent. No way was I taking the wrap for him fucking up.

"If you were any better, John, you'd fucking suck."

"Somehow, that's the sweetest thing I've ever heard," I replied sarcastically. Jim shook his head and motioned for the bell to ring. This time I managed to do everything without a botch, thank goodness.

I was supposed to go get Amberlea this morning, but Jim had phoned ridiculously early this morning, telling me that he wanted me to come in and start tightening up my holds and my technique now that WWF was looking to start bringing more and more people up to the main roster. Amberlea getting summoned to the main roster had pretty much made Jim crazy. Scratch that; crazier than normal.

When I finished, I spotted Randy leaving an office, a huge grin on his face. Climbing out of the ring, having satisfied Jim Cornette for the day, I rushed over to Randy. "Did you get her?"

"Yeah; she's at home," he replied.

"How did your meeting go?"

"Good. They're ready to take me up to the main roster. I guess Amberlea managed to drop both our names to someone who matters and now they're really looking at both of us."

"You fucking serious?"

"Dead serious. She told them she learned a lot from the two of us _on top_ of what she learned from everyone else down here, and now they're thinking we're good enough to go to the main roster. They're looking at me to debut in a few weeks at least. They're splitting up the brands now that they're changing their name to WWE. John, this is amazing!"

"I know." I didn't know what else to say. Jim Cornette approached Randy and smacked him on the back. Randy flinched out of surprise.

"Just heard the good word. Congratulations. I want to see you in here training daily until you get everything down. That way you have no room for error when you get up there."

"Yeah. Definitely. Not today though. Off to celebrate."

"Don't be too hungover for tapings tomorrow," Jim chastised the two of us. We nodded, knowing there was about a ninety-five percent chance that we weren't going to listen.

"What say we go over to Amberlea's tonight and throw an impromptu party?" I asked when Jim was finally out of earshot. Randy nodded.

"No objections there. I'm supposed to call her and tell her how the meeting went anyways. Is it just me, or do you think she knew what this meeting was about?"

"I'll bet she did," I agreed. "Wouldn't put it past her. She's pretty good at keeping surprises. You heading out?"

"Yeah. Probably go pick up some beer. Go over to Amberlea's since Lisa's here. Go keep her company while she settles in. Meet there?"

"You know it." A part of me was jealous that I was going to wind up being the last of the three of us to make it up to the main roster, but I couldn't deny that I was happy for Randy to get called up there. It was only going to be a matter of time before I made it up there and shook the game up with my crew.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

The months flew by quickly. Before I knew it, Randy and John were on _SmackDown_ while I was busy trying to prove myself as a Diva that could hang with the best of them on _Raw_. Randy's been mulling moving back home to St. Louis, and has been trying to talk me into doing the same, just so I could tell my dad that I'm close to somebody. I've been trying to get my dad to sell the business and come up this way to be with me, but he's pretty hesitant. One of these days, I'm sure he will. I don't really have any desire to go back to Texas. I've made a lot of friends here; it would kill me to be scattered to the four winds with them; Randy and John especially. I know eventually I want to start becoming a homeowner.

For my birthday this year, which was back in July, Randy, John and Trish took me out for dinner and surprised me with a visit from my father, who rode all the way up here on his Harley. It was so wonderful to see him again. I miss him dearly. A huge part of me wants to talk to Vince about flying him out for _WrestleMania_ next year, but I'm not sure how to broach the subject. I guess when the time comes I'll ask Trish.

Randy debuted towards the end of April as a face. He's been in a lot of matches with Hardcore Holly this summer, which has been good and bad. While it's been good Randy has been working with a veteran, he said that Bob Holly has been incredibly stiff with him in the ring, even going so far as to sandbag some of his moves at house shows. Randy doesn't feel comfortable saying anything about it, I can tell, though he'd never admit it. Not to me, anyway. John's been telling me that he's been kind of frustrated over it. Despite all that, he's been doing great in the ring. We call each other after our respective shows and critique each other's matches. He hasn't quite found his niche yet; mind you, neither have John or I - but we've done a solid job letting our in-ring action do the talking for us right now. Everything else would come naturally, gradually.

John finally got his call up to the roster in June, where he had a crazy match with Kurt Angle on _SmackDown _that saw him almost go over. We all knew he was going to lose, but Kurt made John look like a total Superstar and established him as a threat. It was impressive.

Tonight, now that _Raw_ is over, I'm sitting in my hotel room with Trish and Nora, watching scary movies with hordes of ice cream in front of us, talking about our influences in women's wrestling. I couldn't be more indebted to these two Divas for guiding me along as much as they have. But they both _get it_. They both understand things that sometimes even the greats can't figure out.

"You're coming along great, Lea," Nora said to me, taking a bite of some Ben and Jerry's Half Baked ice cream. "We got to get you an interesting new finisher though. Something that sets you apart. A DDT is just so generic."

"I know. I've been coming up with a few things, but nothing that's really sticking with me at the moment," I replied. I dug into the suitcase open at the foot of the bed and pulled out my notebook, full of different moves, promo ideas and other pro wrestling related things. Trish and Nora exchanged surprised glances and took a look at some of the finishers.

"I like this one. Trish, can I try it out on you so Amberlea can see what it looks like?" she inquired. She handed the notebook to Trish who nodded. They both stood up in the middle of the hotel room, throwing pillows on the floor for padding. This whole thing just seemed so unbelievably surreal to me.

Nora grabbed Trish as though she were putting her into a suplex. When she had Trish up and over, she let go, bringing Trish down as though she were giving her a Diamond Cutter. When Trish and Nora landed, there was a loud thud and I swore the entire room shook. I wondered for a second if Trish was hurt, but if she was, she didn't show it, laughing herself silly in the fetal position on the pillows.

"That looked pretty awesome," I admitted.

"I think that should be your finisher. Have you ever shown any of these to the guys?"

I shook my head. "Nah. They'd think I'm crazy."

"Great. Now you can blow them both away." I laughed.

"That Randy Orton is so dreamy," Nora replied, sitting down on the bed. "How did you meet him?"

"OV. I met John doing the indy scene in California."

"That's pretty awesome," Trish replied. "I'm sure it made your dad feel better knowing you had people looking out for you."

"Well, he was a bit leery of John at first. But he's come around." Trish threw the pillows back on the beds and we settled down again, this time going over what I was going to name the damn move.

_**Randy Orton**_

I hate working with Bob Holly.

Everything the guy does hurts, and I'm pretty sure that he's been making sure it hurts that much more because I'm a rookie. He seems cold and calculated like that.

The first time I met him, when he was informed who my father was, who my grandfather was, he looked at me with a sneer on his features. "So?" he asked. "That was them. You don't mean shit until you can hang in the ring with me." That had been the first words out of his mouth when I met him. The way I figure it, the guy's probably still pissed off about the mullet-sporting NASCAR gimmick WWF had levelled on him when he first arrived. I shrug it off as the generation gap between old-school and new-school, but it doesn't mean any of his moves hurt any less.

John and I had to leave for Peoria, Illinois in less than twelve hours, and I can't sleep. Amberlea lent me her latest Sevendust album before she left for _Raw_, so I have that on the go while I try and get myself settled down enough to sleep. I have a burning suspicion that John feels the same. Even after a few months, I still have the craziest case of nerves. I suppose that's normal. It's when the nerves disappear when something is wrong.

Vince seems to be happy with my work, stopping every now and then to ask me how my family is doing and commenting on my in-ring work. I guess it's a perk of being a third generation guy; I don't see him making a lot of time for other people. Maybe he just sees something in me; I don't know.

My mind's on Amberlea, already out in Illinois, trying to wind down from living her dream. She's been thinking of moving out of Kentucky, but she doesn't want to move back to Texas, just because there was so many negative people there for her. She hasn't told me any of this; but John's been more than happy to pass along the information. I think it kind of bugs him that when Amberlea and I talk, it stays between the two of us. It's more respectful to her that way.

It's been a strange ride since I made it up to the WWE roster. I think Dawn Marie has a crush on me, which is a bit creepy. There's something about her I can't put my finger on. Not that it matters; I'm hearing rumblings about being transferred to _Raw_. It might not be true, but I've heard that they are impressed enough with my work to put me on the A-show. That would be the best thing that could happen. To be a guy on _Raw_, with opportunities to battle guys like Triple H and Ric Flair. Battling Ric Flair would be a dream come true; I remember as a kid I used to dress up as him and emulate him as best I could. Of course, he is often imitated, but never duplicated. I think my parents kind of got a kick out of it, because they never gave me hell for it.

If I got drafted to _Raw_, I'd need to really pick it up. Work harder than I'm working now. Prove that I'm good enough to hold a title, to work with the best guys in the business. I could feel pressure starting to crush down on me, but I refused to allow it. Not this time.

_**John Cena**_

Kurt Angle made me look amazing in my first match, and for that, I'm forever in debt to him. He's a pretty cool guy; deceptively fast for his size. Guy won a gold medal back in 1996 for amateur wrestling, so there's no doubt that they threw me in with the best right away.

It's been an insane ride the last few months, watching my friends and I on the two separate brands, trying to make names for ourselves in the industry we've loved since we were children. My family was just over the moon when they caught my first match on the tube. It's not bad for a small town kid.

Randy's been moodier than usual lately, but I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that he hates working with Hardcore Holly. Can't say I blame him, since I've heard a lot of the rookies complaining about the liberties he takes with everyone but the veterans who wouldn't stand for it for two seconds.

Amberlea's been a lot busier lately, thinking of moving, since Lisa Marie is talking about moving in with her boyfriend. I have no idea where she's planning on moving, but I hope it's not too far. I'd hate to not be able to see her all the time. She's been pretty much my anchor, someone I could look at as family while I'm away from mine.

I should be asleep; not sitting on the couch watching some network-edited version of _Caddyshack. _After all, Randy and I have to be on a plane to Peoria tomorrow morning, in time for Amberlea to arrive home. It's kind of funny how life can tear the best of friends apart. A huge part of me hopes that between the three of us, nobody has to leave the equation because of our work schedules. But I digress.

Better judgment tells me I should at least lie down and hope to get some sleep. But I don't really care tonight. I wonder if Amberlea is sleeping; I don't think Randy's sleeping. Since the two of us got called up to the main roster I'd be surprised if we average two to three hours of sleep per night now. It seems like since we got called up, the stress level has increased on all of us. Not that I'm complaining too much, though it's getting harder to remember what a good night's sleep feels like. We all love the opportunities we've been getting in the WWE. I know they've already got me signed up for a trip to Europe. I didn't see Randy's name on there, but I think they have different plans for him. What they are, neither of us know. But something tells me we're going to be hustling pretty hard the instant we find out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

_**Randy Orton**_

I really doubt that tonight could suck any hard than it already has.

So, back in September, they put me on _Raw_ while they sent John to Europe. After coming back, John told me how they were applying a white boy rapper gimmick to him, thanks in large part to him doing a freestyle on the bus with Chuck Palumbo, Rey Mysterio and Rikishi.

A few hours ago, I had a match against Stevie Richards. Now, here I am, sitting here in the doctor's office with a fucked up shoulder that's going to no doubt sideline me for a few months. Just when I thought I had some kind of momentum going to, and now it's all shot to shit.

My brain went to my dad when I first realized I was hurt; my dad who wore a cast on his arm for three years because he was wrestling so much that he refused to allow it to heal properly. I'm supposed to call Vince when I finally get the hell out of here, whenever that may be. I've already been stuck here for the last three hours, getting poked, prodded and X-rayed. I exhaled; this night could not possibly get any worse.

When the doctor returned, he told me the news that I hoped I wouldn't have to hear. I was going to need surgery; my shoulders are hyper mobile, and I will be sidelined from wrestling for a few months. I could always ignore it, but then I think about my father. Jesus; this is the last thing I need; I was just starting to get a little bit of momentum as a baby face. Now, it's all gone down the drain.

I let the doctor put me in a sling, pretty much telling me not to do anything until I contact a surgeon in the morning. Easier said than done there, Doc. Fucked over does not even begin to describe how I feel.

I left the doctor's office to go call a cab, irate over the bad luck. Hopefully they wouldn't release me while I was injured. Family lineage only goes so far when you aren't around to pull your weight. "Goddamn it," I cursed, trying my damnedest to keep my anger in check when every nerve and fibre of my being wanted to create the biggest scene.

She was waiting for me in the middle of the waiting room, dozed off, looking like an angel. I couldn't believe it; she came to pick me up. My heart was warmed by the friendly gesture she was making. I approached her and sat down beside her. She stirred, eyes opening to rest on me. "You're out? What did the doctor say?"

"When did you get here?"

"As soon as the show ended. I thought since you left in an ambulance you were going to need a ride to get back to the hotel."

"That's thoughtful. Thanks. I appreciate it."

"So what did the doctor say?"

"I'm going need surgery and a few months off."

"Jeez, Randy. I'm sorry to hear that. Just do what the doctors and Vince tell you and I'm sure you'll heal up that much faster." We stood to our feet and began making our way out of the hospital.

"Yeah…and if Vince tells me to work through it?" She scoffed.

"It's a different era than your father's, Randy. I can't see that happening. Worst case scenario, though, they'll figure something out to keep you on TV so the fans don't forget."

"I hope you're right. Because I'd sure feel like everything is a waste of time if that happened."

"Nothing is ever a waste of time, Randy. Everything will even out, injury or not," she informed me. Sometimes I hated her stupid, naïve optimism, but tonight, I appreciated it. One of us had to be happy, and it sure in the hell wasn't going to be me.

_**John Cena**_

I had no idea that the trip to Europe was going to be such a life-changing experience for me. It feels like now, after less than six months in the biggest professional wrestling organization in the world, that everything is falling into place for me, and I couldn't be happier.

Somebody in the front office, sitting at the front of the bus had heard me freestyling with a few of the guys at the back of the bus for fun while we were traveling from one town to another. Just a way to kill the time. Next thing I know, this is my gimmick. This is what's going to set me apart from everybody else, and this is what I need to run with and make work. And I think I can do it. I know I can do it; after all, I've been freestyle rapping for years with my friends.

Randy moved out a few months back, just before they put him on _Raw_. Headed back to St. Louis to be close to his family. Can't say that I blame him. It's been a bit hard for Amberlea to take, but we still live within a few hours from him, so she's not complaining too much about it. We still try and get together when our schedules manage to clash, which has gotten a bit harder since we got called up. She's kind of lucky now that she's not the only one on _Raw_, that Randy's at least there with her.

So far, so good in terms of my rap gimmick. The crowd doesn't seem to care for it too much, but I know if I work harder I'll make them want to see me get their asses kicked. That's what it's like to be a heel.

My tag team partner Rico Constantino got called up here; playing a flamboyant manager of sorts to Billy and Chuck before turning on them to join up with this Three Minute Warning tag team. I shudder to think that I would be the one to wear some of the stuff he's wearing. Sure, I'm okay with looking completely and utterly ridiculous; after all, I'm prepping to dress up as Vanilla Ice for Halloween this year. But the leopard print pants are too much, even for me. It's good to see him, though.

Lisa got called up to _Raw_ in August, with her immediately feuding with Trish Stratus. In turn, they took Amberlea and stuck her in a feud with Molly Holly in hopes of teaming Lisa - who is now Victoria - with Molly so that Trish and Amberlea can align in tag matches. So far, since Lisa's arrived, it hasn't happened.

So, as far as things are going at this point, everything is wonderful. I get to leave tomorrow for _SmackDown_, where I hope I've got enough to make the fans hate me with a passion. They have me working with a lot of vets right now, including Eddie Guerrero and his nephew. I'm very lucky there; they have just as much family lineage as Randy, if not more, so it's been great picking things up from them as I go. They're talking about turning me heel right now. It's awesome. I'm pretty much going to become the anti-Superstar, and that's going to do wonders in setting me apart from everybody. Randy and Amberlea still have yet to find their niche, what makes them comfortable and sets them apart, though I will admit Lea's finisher, the _Fleurs du Mal_, which is French for Flowers of Evil, is a pretty sick finisher. Randy and I both just about had a heart attack when she did that move for the first time to Jazz, of all Divas. How could she have held out that move on us? It was insane! That's when she showed us her notebook full of different promo ideas, match ideas and move ideas. On a side note, her standing moonsault has improved considerably over the past few months. Everyone comments on it. In the past six months or so, she's become a greater athlete than what she was in Ohio Valley Wrestling. And I'm honestly pretty proud to say that I was a part of that. I'm pretty sure Randy's proud of it, too, even if he never utters a word about it.

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

We got back to Randy's hotel room after stopping by a twenty-four hour Seven Eleven to get some Tylenol and hot chocolate. He was miserable, and I can't say that I blame him. I don't know exactly what's going through his head, but considering his father's injury and his paranoia of suffering the same fate, I can only imagine he's suffering from a complete mind-fucking.

I helped him out of his jacket, hanging it up for him. He was in his hotel room all by himself, thanks in large part to Jamal jerking him around until the last minute before rooming with his tag partner Rosey and Rico. So, he's injured, paranoid, upset and all alone. It just doesn't seem right.

The clock said it was one-thirty in the morning. Randy and I were going to drive back from Illinois, figuring we could make it back quicker if we drove and didn't have to wake up at three AM for baggage checks and screenings. Not that I minded; I just hoped it wasn't going to be awkwardly quiet as it usually is when he and I are in a car alone together. Anyway, he was going to need me to drive tomorrow, considering he was one armed and injured.

"Come on. Let's get you ready for bed. We got to be out early tomorrow." He nodded. "I called Trish and told her I was going to stay here in case you need anything."

"Where are you going to sleep?"

"The couch. It's a hide-a-bed, Randy. Anyways, you're injured; you can't be by yourself right now, so don't even think about arguing with me." He sighed, shoulders slumping. He winced as his injured shoulder slumped. "See what I mean?" He nodded, sighing again as if that would change the situation. Once I gave him a couple Tylenol tablets, it was time to get down to business. "Come on." I grabbed him by his good arm and led him into the bedroom. "You need to get as much rest as you can, and so do I, since I'm driving the entire way now."

"Sorry, Amberlea…"

"Don't. It happens. I hope you'd do the same if this was me," I replied. I helped him out of his sling, making the movements a gingerly as I could. Last thing I wanted to do was to be the one that hurt him worse.

Once I helped Randy out of his clothing - a very, very embarrassing and awkward task, by the way - I helped him into bed, making sure his shoulder was comfortable until we could call the surgeon tomorrow afternoon. Once I was sure he was settled in, I shut off the lights and left him in the room to try and get some sleep.

I tried to pull the hide-a-bed out quietly, which in my case meant that it sounded like somebody had let a bull loose in a china shop. Once I had it all set up, I got changed into my pyjamas and settled in, turning on the television. I wasn't too tired, thanks in part to my little catnap at the hospital. I got under the blankets and turned on the television, flipping it to _Late Night with Conan O'Brien. _My thoughts were with Randy in the bedroom, trying to get himself comfortable enough so that he could sleep. I've been fortunate enough to have never been injured, maybe with the exception of my trampoline escapades as a kid.

My thoughts were also with John. It's been a while since I've spoken with him. I know he's been keeping himself busy with the new gimmick that WWE decided would get him over. There's no doubt in my mind he'll click with the fans. The man has so much personality that I'd be worried if he didn't click on some level. Charisma connects; that's just all there is to it.

It didn't take long for me to fall asleep during Conan O'Brien; after all, it had been a long, chaotic day, even by WWE standards. My only hope was that Randy could at least get a couple hours of sleep despite the pain.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

_**Randy Orton**_

As apprehensive as I was, Amberlea turned out to be a pretty awesome roommate last night. Quiet, let me get some sleep before we had to leave. I know it was kind of awkward for her to help me get changed, but I appreciate that she did that. Not that she saw me naked or anything, but damn near close enough. The blush pretty much stayed on her face for the entire road trip.

I was worried that it was going to be awkward for the two of us, but she actually made it fun. Maybe it's just the way things are when John is in the equation, I don't know, but it was probably one of the most fun trips I've ever taken. We stopped in at a Denny's where I treated her to breakfast for taking care of me and picking me up from the hospital. I learned so much about her, yet she learned so little about me. It seems almost unfair. The poor girl is allergic to strawberries. I couldn't imagine.

At around eleven, we stopped off at the mall, where she picked up some new music for the road trip. I watched her selections; _1919 Eternal _by Black Label Society, _Alive or Just Breathing_ by Killswitch Engage,_ Believe_ by Disturbed and _Comalies_, from some band called Lacuna Coil that neither of us had heard of, but she wanted to take a chance on. Her music tastes were so close to mine. I wondered how John survived rooming with her and her metal.

We stopped for lunch an hour later, where this time she treated me to lunch as a thank you for letting her go and pick up some new music for the trip. We stopped off at a drive thru, a treat for the two of us, since it's a workout's worst enemy.

"You're quite the metal-head," I observed. We had Disturbed going. She nodded.

"That's my dad. I grew up stuff like Metallica and Judas Priest and Iron Maiden and all that," she informed me. "By the time I was two, my dad said I could do a pretty awesome cover of _Painkiller_." We both laughed.

"I grew up on old country."

"Well, you were raised by a 'cowboy'," she teased. I chuckled as I reached into the glove box to get some more Tylenol. The pain was starting to become a little bit unbearable.

"We don't have anymore stops to make, do we?" I asked her.

"Not unless we have to stop for gas. From here on in, we're just going home." The game plan was for her to drop the rental car off at the airport in Louisville, and I would wait there and call the surgeon until my dad could come get me. I spoke to Vince this morning; he set up an appointment for me, I just had to call and confirm. He assured me not to worry, that these things happen and to just focus on getting better. It made me feel a bit better, but it didn't help the paranoia that I felt.

"I appreciate you stepping in like this; I don't think I told you last night," I told her.

"It's fine," she answered with a shrug. "Friends do this sort of thing for their friends." I nodded, knowing there wasn't much else I could say to her without getting her "that's what friends are for" philosophy. I stared out the window, watching the roads. Autumn was going to fade into winter within the next few months, and I was going to watch it all out my living room window while everybody else was traveling and living the life of a WWE Superstar. I guess I am a bit bitter; not that I'd say anything about that to Amberlea. Last thing I want is to make her feel bad; she's really gone above and beyond as a friend to me the last few days. Always ignoring my moody ass and battling it with optimism and happiness. It's funny she's such a little ray of sunshine when you meet her father. And considering what she's been through; surviving an accident that killed her mother, never having anyone to really step in for her in that department. You'd never know her grief. She's a trooper. Made of Teflon, it seems like. It's too bad not a lot of other people are like her.

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

He went silent on me again.

I never know what to say, what to think, or even how to act around him when he falls silent on me, staring out the window, pondering and rationalizing things. Wondering what he's thinking about me. Am I being too cheerful in spite of his predicament? Am I just being overbearing, irritating, annoying? Out of all my friends, I feel like he's the one I'm always striving for approval for. He's the guy at the edge of the bar, the one to watch for in a bar fight. Calculating, cold. Never mind his appearance; there is just something so calculated beneath his pretty boy exterior.

He stared out the window, wincing here and there when his shoulder began to act up. My heart went out to him; God forbid I ever get injured like that; I'd probably be the most miserable person on the planet. My heart would be broken; I'd hate having all sorts of time to myself, not knowing what to do. I think it would pretty much kill me, considering I've been doing my own thing since I was twelve.

Shaking the thoughts out of my head, I decided to just enjoy listening to some Disturbed. The album was almost over anyways. Sometimes it's hard sitting beside him when he's quiet. I have a sneaking suspicion that he doesn't like me too much, but he tolerates me for John's sake. John tells me that's not the case, but he's not even a hundred percent sure. Randy has a tendency to keep things very close to the vest with us.

Changing the CD from Disturbed to Lacuna Coil, a band I had heard about in _Kerrang!_ magazine as a new band to watch for, I returned my gaze back to the road. I was wondering if he was ever going to speak, but it looked like he had passed out, his head rested against the glass. I turned the music up a little bit, admiring the female vocalist, not particularly enjoying the male one, and continued the drive. We still had another couple hours before we were going to make it back to Louisville anyways. And considering he probably had the most uncomfortable night sleep the night before, it was probably for the best for me to just let him get as much rest as he could before he has to go in for surgery. Might be better for his shoulder and for the pain if he just spent most of his time sleeping through it.

_**John Cena**_

Today is the day I'm supposed to turn on my tag team partner Billy Kidman, blaming him for the two of us losing in the tag team tournament for the new tag titles that Steph is introducing. From the looks of it, it's going to wind up being Kurt Angle and Chris Benoit vs. Edge and Rey Mysterio at the upcoming _No Mercy_ pay-per-view in Little Rock, Arkansas. My new gimmick is supposed to kick in around Halloween when I dress up as the Ice Man; I've been working feverishly on rhymes for the past week. Trying to come up with something that I could be happy with and make everybody else happy with it as well. With the way things are going, I'm pretty sure I could be competing on the next _WrestleMania_ card. That would be a total dream come true.

Past the Gorilla, out in the stands, the fans are rabid, but they're still somewhat indifferent to me, and though they like Billy Kidman, it's not enough for me to get a rub. Rey Mysterio and Edge are already established; their pops pretty much blow us out of the building.

At the moment, I'm sitting on a trunk backstage, mentally going over my match. My spots. Not like I really had any spots at the moment; I was still a cookie-cutter generic guy for the next few weeks. Despite all that, I've been spending the last few weeks preparing so that when I do finally break out and become something more than a guy with generic boots and tights and wristbands, that I blow everybody away. Entertain them. I want to be a Hall of Fame inductee. I want people to be able to tell their kids that they remember the time they saw John Cena headline at Madison Square Garden. I want to snatch up every opportunity and I want to be able to ride the wave for as long as I can with the friends that I've made. See the world, make memories.

I readjusted my wristbands and looked up to see Billy Kidman standing in front of me. "Are you ready to go?" he asked me. "We're going to be on pretty quick."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good to go," I told him, sliding off of the trunk. "If I hurt you out there tonight, apologies in advance, dude."

"Don't worry about it. Hazards of the job," he informed me. I nodded, following him through the throngs of technicians, Superstars and Divas.

Even though she was supposed to be canoodling with Torrie Wilson's father - in and outside of the ring, from the rumours that I've been hearing - I could see Dawn Marie eyeing me, making me feel like a piece of meat as I walked past her. She was a hot little thing; nice, tan, curvy, brown hair. Couldn't hold a candle to a classy girl like Lea, but she was definitely easy on the eyes. Pretty much all the Divas are, though.

"Good luck out there, Johnny boy!" she called after me. I almost stopped, but Billy pushed my back to keep me going.

"Just stay away; that woman is trouble with a capital T. Trust me; I've seen what she's been doing to my girlfriend first hand."

"Don't worry; I can sense the trouble just coming off of her. Girls like that _always_ equal trouble." God knows I've met enough of them over the years. I didn't even want to turn back, but her face was most definitely sticking with me. Maybe it's a bad thing, maybe it's a good thing. I'm not sure; what I do know, though, is for the first time in the last few months, I've gotten some kind of female attention that doesn't seem platonic. Definitely not objecting to that.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

_**Randy Orton**_

Despite the fact I'm considered out on injury, Vince was good enough to come up with something that would a) turn me heel and b) keep me on television while I was healing up. I couldn't be more thankful, though I can't say I'm digging the whole _Randy News Network_ stuff. The email address they sent out for fans to give me was a pretty amusing read; I had a few tell me they hoped I felt better, a few telling me I was boring, and a few others - obviously old enough to remember my dad - asking me how it felt to share a hospital room with my dad and his eternally broken arm. I let Amberlea read a few of them - at her insistence - and she definitely got a few good snickers out of it.

There's rumblings right now that Triple H wants to put a new group together called Evolution. They've already set things in gear at last month's _Unforgiven_ pay-per-view with Ric and Hunter teaming up together. He's looking for a few more, and the word going around back here is he's got his eyes on me. Don't know why; I haven't had much time to prove much of anything before I got injured. Maybe it's the lineage; maybe Ric is going to bat for me because he knows my father; I don't know. It's just a rumbling right now; nobody has asked me to be a part of it or anything. It would be pretty cool, though, getting to learn the ropes, so to speak, with Triple H and Ric Flair. You can't really go wrong there. Learning from the best practically out of the gate is the best thing that anybody could ask for.

I did an interview with Jim Ross tonight, planting the seeds for my heel turn. Montreal is a funny city; they've never really seemed to get over the whole Montreal Incident at _Survivor Series 1997_, where Bret Hart was swerved out of the then-WWF Championship. It's an iconic moment in pro wrestling for all the wrong reasons, and while the US has moved past it, Canadians seem to grip on it. So when I got handed my notes on the promo, and they told me to get a few digs in on Bret Hart, I knew that this would help me in my heel turn. Sure, it's totally cheap heat, and eventually I won't have to resort to this kind of thing, but right now, it's very, very helpful. Judging by some of the emails I've received since we activated the account a few hours ago, I'd say we're all on the right track.

Amberlea offered to be my hotel roommate, until I can recover, but I couldn't let her do that. I already felt like I took advantage of her last week when she spent the night, seeing to my every whim and driving me all the way from Illinois to Kentucky. She even sent me flowers after my surgery with Dr. Andrews in Alabama. It was an incredibly sweet gesture. She was even one of the first people to call the hospital for an update. Sure, I wasn't awake, but it was nice of the nurse to relay the message.

The doctors said I'd be out three to four months, and once I'm healed up good enough to start getting back into training, I have to make sure that the ring rust doesn't get to me. John and Amberlea are sure I will be back better than ever. Depending on what day you catch me, I might actually agree with the assessment.

Tonight, I'm chilling out with Rico, who is keeping an eye out for me, thanks in large part to my arm being stuck in a sling. I can get dressed by myself now - thank God - though it's still a bit awkward and painful thanks in part to the limited mobility in my shoulder. I'm pretty much one handed right now. Thankfully, most of the people who have befriended me on the roster - Amberlea included - have been quick to help me with my luggage or any heavy lifting or anything that I need. It's been pretty touching to see everyone kind of band together to help out a moody dick like me. Hopefully, while I'm still on television and recuperating, they can find something to help me break into the upper mid-card. Then it's the main-event level.

_**John Cena**_

Randy's been moodier than usual lately with his injury. Can't say that I blame him. Amberlea was explaining to me just what hyper mobility is all about. Her father has hyper mobile fingers apparently, as she explained he can almost make his thumb touch the middle of his palm backwards. It sounds kind of creepy. She didn't know that it could happen in the shoulder. Can't say I knew the condition had a name.

Amberlea's been staying busy lately, but we still manage to get together every Thursday night, when I get home and she and Randy are set to pack and leave. It's been a lot harder to get together, but we're still doing as much as we can to make time for each other, like we did in OVW. I think it keeps Amberlea, Randy and I grounded. And I think it keeps Amberlea feeling like she has a family with her father down in Texas. It's important.

I've been busy getting my Vanilla Ice costume ready; the minor feud with Billy Kidman kind of fizzled out due in large part to lack of interest. So, from here on in, it's sparse appearances from me. But judging how my little rap gets over on Halloween, it could open a lot of doors for me. The backstage word is that Kurt Angle liked my intensity, liked my aggression, and wouldn't mind working with me down the line. It means a lot to hear that; Stephanie McMahon seems to have a lot of faith in me, too. The more people I can get behind me in the stands and behind the curtain, the better.

I spent the night tonight hanging out with the Undertaker, who was supposed to be something of a mentor to me when I started. He's a big, burly, biker looking guy who could probably fuck you up just for looking at him the wrong way. He's a Texan, like Amberlea, with the face of a bulldog and a deep growling drawl to match. Everybody back here tells me that if he wants to give me any sort of attention or advice, to take him up on it, because that's the epitome of learning from the best. He's a pretty cool guy; he's in the middle of a nasty feud with Brock Lesnar that they brought his pregnant wife Sara into. She seems nice enough; I met her last month when Brock was supposed to scare her after attacking the Dead Man. Since then, she's had a daughter, which has put him over the moon. Ever see the Dead Man get smitten? That's how it is.

Tonight, I'm hanging out with him and Bradshaw, taking in everything that they tell me about the business, about their stories on the road. Mercifully, there hasn't been too much hazing on me; the unspoken rule here is to just keep your head down and respect the old timers and you'll do just fine. Don't disrespect the elders. It really is common sense. I don't know what everyone thinks of me here, but hopefully I'm not the most hated.

"So, what about that Lea?" Bradshaw inquired. My head snapped up. "Does she not have the sickest finisher ever?"

"Yeah. It's right up there with that Widow's Peak," Taker replied with a nod.

"She was just using a DDT in OV," I replied, "I can't believe she was holding that little doozy back from us. She said Trish and Nora tested it out for her to help her decide on it."

"I didn't think she was that strong," Bradshaw replied. "Girl's what, five-nine? Hundred and twenty pounds."

"Around there, I think."

"Never learned it firsthand?" Bradshaw asked. I was a little bit shocked to hear what he was insinuating. I shook my head. "Well, that sucks," he replied. I shrugged; I didn't know what more to say about it. Taker was just amused to see me uncomfortable. Price of being the new guy, I suppose. "Give me her, and give me Trish Stratus," he hooted. A part of me wondered if he was just trying to piss me off, trying to make me lose my temper. He's a notorious hazer; it's his reputation. If I lose my temper, there's probably a good shot I'd get canned. Best to just roll with the punches. But it drove me crazy to hear him say such things about her. She was like Miss Elizabeth; just pure class.

The guys were talking about the best bars in the area, something I didn't really care about since I don't drink all that much. I guess I didn't give Bradshaw the dirt that he wanted to hear. It felt like everything was awkward now. I half-wished Billy Kidman was around to bail me out.

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

I came through the curtain after a hard fought match with Jazz. It always seems to amaze everybody when I got her up for the _Fleurs du Mal. _Chris Jericho stopped me earlier in the night, telling me it was one of the more creative finishers he'd seen as of late. It meant a lot to hear that; I've been following him since WCW. He told me to keep up the good work, and I fought the urge to mark out like a total schoolgirl in front of him.

So far, so good on the in-ring department. A lot of the backstage agents have been just as helpful to me as the OVW guys were to me. Everybody's been great at letting me get some practice and give me advice on how to handle life on the road, and how to handle life backstage. The veteran's advice has just been incredibly valuable.

Next week, Jim Ross informed me that I'm supposed to give my first interview to a magazine that isn't under the WWE umbrella, though I do have a photo-shoot coming up for _WWE Magazine_ in time for the holiday issue. To say I'm nervous is a bit of an understatement. Do I go in work mode? Shoot mode? Is it different for Divas? Jim had seen the expression on my face when he had told me and chuckled at me.

"Don't worry about it, Amberlea. You'll be just fine. Just be yourself." I nodded. "You've got a week to try and calm down. Talk to Trish; she's worked the circuit."

So now, here I am, sitting with Trish and Lita, trying to keep my nerves under control. I just want to be a wrestler; looking good in bikinis and magazine interviews is a completely foreign concept to me. Trish and Lita were laughing at my nervousness.

"Thanks a lot, guys. Seriously - what am I supposed to do here?"

"Well, don't bury anyone and don't bury the company. Pretty much just be nice, be positive. Be what a WWE Diva should be," Amy said to me. I nodded.

"You'll do fine," Trish replied. "I have a press junket thing to do next week as well. Try not to get too nervous about it. You'll get smoother with it in time."

"I know. Then there's the photo spread…"

"The life of a Diva," Trish replied with a laugh. "How about a couple weeks from now, we go out and we go shopping and get you some stuff that will define your style. Magazine interviews and photo spreads are pretty good for setting people apart from the other to the readers."

"How is Randy doing?" Amy inquired.

"Good. Rico's rooming with him in case he needs a hand with anything. It's been pretty awkward for him being one handed. But he's doing good."

"That's good to hear." I nodded.

"So what are you doing tonight, guys?" Amy asked. I shrugged.

"Not a whole hell of a lot. Looking forward to going home tomorrow." That wasn't a lie by any stretch of the imagination; we've all been on the road since Friday. Considering I'm moving this week into townhouse in Lexington. It's gorgeous, and at the moment it keeps me between Randy and John. A part of me has been worried that John is going to move away, back to Massachusetts or to Florida, even. I would sure hate it if he left. With Randy as cold and distant as he tends to be with me, I have the feeling that everything would just disintegrate. The thought of that kills me.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

_**John Cena**_

We were sitting in TGI Friday's, waiting for dinner. The hot blonde waitress was taking turns flirting between Randy and I, but wasn't getting anywhere. She was definitely giving some nasty eyes at Amberlea, who was too nervous about things to really care what some waitress was thinking.

She said she had an interview coming up with a newspaper. It was enough to put her on edge. I was trying my best to make her feel better about things, but she still wasn't very sure. Said she had a bikini spread to do for the holiday issue, which had her even more nervous.

"Ever thought about just wearing a one piece?" Randy asked her. "I mean, I'm sure you can find something stylish and Diva enough that makes you comfortable."

"You kidding? They heeled out Molly Holly and stuck her in one pieces!"

"Thanks, John," she said to me with a roll of her beautiful hazel eyes.

"Look. Just trust Trish. It'll be a joint endeavour, and she should know better than anybody about photo spreads and modelling." She nodded, but I could tell that she wasn't so happy about it. Randy wasn't offering her too much words of wisdom; just staring into his chocolate milkshake. Amberlea was sipping on a strawberry milkshake, constantly making remarks about how she shouldn't be drinking it if she wanted to look decent in a bikini. She's just being ridiculous. It's almost cute to see her so nervous though.

"Other than your nerves, life on _Raw_ is treating you well?" I asked her. She nodded.

"Yeah. It's so crazy to think that the three of us are able to live our dreams together." She ran a hand through her streaked hair. "It's amazing." The waitress arrived with our dinner, slipping Randy a note. When she disappeared, he slid it over to Amberlea to look at, since its not really easy opening anything one handed. What a smart waitress.

Amberlea opened it. "Oh, my God, _des-per-ate_." She held it up for me to see. "She totally left you her number with your pasta, Randal." He cocked his eyebrow, then they both broke into snickers. I shook my head; it seemed like he was starting to warm up to her a little bit. I guess having all that time to travel without me around gave them some kind of time to bond. Amberlea hasn't said much about it, but who knows? Randy is pretty hot and cold at best with everyone. Maybe Amberlea is just warming up to it now better than she used to.

"So, do you have your rap done and your costume ready to go for the Halloween tapings?" Amberlea inquired. I nodded.

"I just need to put the finishing touches on a rap, but I have the biggest, most flamboyant, most ridiculous looking costume and wig that I could get my hands on. Figure this is the time to go big or go home." She nodded, picking at her fries. She was still stressed about the bikini shoot and the upcoming interview. No matter how much we try to get her mind off of it, it just proves impossible.

"I can't wait until this goddamn sling comes off," Randy grumbled, shoving a forkful of tortellini in his mouth. "I'm going crazy doing everything one handed."

"I know," Amberlea cooed, "It'll all be over before you know it, though. Then you'll be back on _Raw_ as a competitor."

"Speaking of which, have you guys heard the rumblings backstage?" he asked. Amberlea and I traded bewildered glances before we shook our heads. "It sounds like this Triple H-Ric Flair pairing is going to turn into a full-fledged faction, and if the rumours are right, then they are eyeing this guy right here to be a member of their new group." Amberlea's eyes widened; I bit back the tinge of jealousy I was feeling.

"You're _kidding_," Amberlea breathed. "Randy, that is so awesome!"

"You really haven't heard anything, Amberlea?"

"No. I've been too busy dealing with the Diva end of stuff. If that's true, I don't know if you could get a bigger rub than that!" Did he - he just _blushed_. I can't believe it. In all the time that I've known him, I don't think I've ever seen him blush. I looked over at Amberlea for any hint as to why he was blushing, but I didn't see her expression any different than normal.

A big part of me was jealous to know that the best of the best in the main event on _Raw_ wanted to do something with Randy. This could be a huge opportunity and a giant stepping stone for him. But I shook it off. After all, I could make my new gimmick work when it came down to it. I could impress everyone. Work harder, train harder, think of my next moves and how it's going to impact my career. Come up with a catchphrase, a gesture, a signature move, a finisher. Anything that could possibly set me apart. The idea of my friends and I all in the same company together was good enough; the idea of us all reigning supreme in the top of our brands and in our divisions was even better.

_**Randy Orton**_

Something flashed in John's eyes tonight, and I don't like it.

Does he think there's something going on between Amberlea and I? Is that what his problem is? He's been giving me a lot of scrutinizing looks tonight. Something's been up with him lately, but I can't quite gauge it. Maybe he's jealous that he's not on the same brand as Amberlea and I; who knows? From what I've been hearing around the backstage area, they have high hopes for him if he can carry this gimmick.

Rehab therapy is going fine; between doing that and my WWE duties, it's been enough to keep me busier than usual. I shot a glance to Amberlea, who slid the phone number back to me. Like I was going to call it. Sure, I've been on a dry spell since I've been injured, but between the rehabbing, the schedule, the light workouts and trying to squeeze in sleep, how in the hell do I make time for a ring rat? Not that I'm really into that sort of thing, by the way. I looked at Amberlea, who was obviously in a deep state of concentration, trying to gauge me like she always does. To her, I'm an enigma. Somebody she can't figure out, with something she can't quite put her finger on. She always seems eager to please me, like she thinks I hate her or something. It's weird.

John was eating some popcorn shrimp, talking about what he had planned to set himself apart from everybody on _SmackDown_. Talking about how he and his cousin and a few of his friends into hip hop are planning on making an album. Sometimes I wonder about Amberlea and John. Have they ever had anything more than platonic between the two of them? He seems to like her in ways that are more than fraternal. Not that I can blame him; just one look in her enormous hazel eyes is enough to make a tough guy break down. Sometimes I want to just allow myself to sit and stare at her, watch her every movement and mannerism, but I can't bring myself out to do it and look like a complete and total creeper. I wind up just staring down at the floor, which probably makes her think I'm angry at her or I don't want to see her. Trust me, that couldn't be farther from the truth.

"It's getting kind of cold out," I commented. "They seriously want to take a bikini shot with you for the _holiday_ issue?"

"It'll be at headquarters in Stamford," she answered. "They're manufacturing everything to give the illusion that I'm playing in the snow in a bikini." I nodded. "Saves me a trip to the emergency room with pneumonia, I guess." John and I chuckled. She was still picking away at a burger, in deep reflection mode tonight. I wasn't about to ask her what she was thinking about; what business was it of mine? Sometimes it feels like the two of us walk on eggshells around each other; I can't quite come up with a good solution to fix that. Maybe one of these days.

"So, I was thinking, maybe after dinner next week, maybe we can all go out and see a movie?" John suggested. "Considering we haven't really done much than the usual routine since we've been called up."

"That sounds good by me," she replied.

"Anything good coming out?" I asked. John shrugged.

"We'll know next week," he replied. I nodded, forking the last bit of tortellini in my mouth. Amberlea still had half her burger left. I don't get why she's so nervous about posing in a bikini; she certainly has the body for it. Has the look of a model, of a Diva. She has nothing to worry about.

I eyed the phone number on the table, by my pasta. Was this going to be a normal occurrence in my life? Random women just handing me their phone numbers while they're on shift? I looked over at Amberlea, who was still picking away at her burger, deep in thought. Did she have anybody do this to her on the road, while she was out with Trish? Those two together would be sensory overload to any guy. I'm amazed nobody at the offices in Stamford have clicked onto this. Trish Stratus and Amberlea Brennan could be one of best Diva duos of all time.

_**Amberlea Brennan **_

Everybody decided to come back to my place after dinner to watch a movie. John settled beside me on one side of the couch while Randy sat beside me on the other. It had been an awkward dinner for me; I could sense something was different between John and Randy, and this my first press promotion stuff was coming up. I didn't want to mess everything up, or say or do anything that would make Vince think less of me as a Diva.

We settled on watching _Evil Dead_, which was cool with me - I can't believe Randy and John had never seen it. Ash Williams is the single greatest thing to happen to horror movies, period. With his Elvis Presley attitude and his chainsaw arm and his boomstick…he's just awesome.

It's always nice to have these moments with the guys. Sitting back, watching movies, just enjoying a low profile. These were the memories I was going to cherish for the rest of my life, the simple stuff to lean back on when life got too busy.

Randy and I had to leave tomorrow for Des Moines, Iowa, for a few house shows before we did _Raw_ in Detroit, Michigan on Monday. Randy, Trish and I were all going to travel together, considering that Randy can't really drive at the moment, and it's pretty difficult to take the brunt of all the driving by myself. I love travelling with Trish anyways; she's very much into spirituality and meditation, and hearing her talk about it is just so fascinating. I'm not quite sure what Randy thinks of it; last week, he just sat in the back, staring out the window, silent for three quarters of the trip until Trish started talking to him about the rumours of him joining up with Triple H and Ric Flair.

Trish gets where I'm coming from when I tell her Randy is hard to talk to. He doesn't follow much sports; their music tastes are at different ends of the spectrum. Trish loves rap with a heavy bass line, R&B with a smooth edge, while Randy loves hard rock and heavy metal. Even though Randy and I have stuff in common, I just feel like he's so hard to approach sometimes. I wonder if he thinks it's the same with me, though I can't see that; I'm usually the first to have to start conversations and stuff with him. But I digress.

"So when does he chop off his hand?" John inquired. I stared at him, eyebrow cocked.

"Holy bloodlust, Batman," I teased. "Anyway, that doesn't happen in this film. That's _Evil Dead II - Dead By Dawn_." I dropped my tone of voice a few octaves in hopes of sounding ominous. In reality, I just came off sounding like a giant dork.

"What? We don't have the time to watch them both!" John's face crumpled, as though he were going to cry. I snickered.

"Well, sometime next week when we're all off again, we'll have to watch this. Maybe we'll get _Army of Darkness_ crammed in there, too. That one's probably my favorite."

Randy shifted to get more comfortable. The poor guy has been having the worst time getting comfortable between the rehab and the sling. He's got a doctors appointment coming up soon, and from there, they're going to determine if the sling can come off and he can resume a light workout regimen. I hope for his sake that he can get rid of it all. Then he can come back to _Raw_ and get his career back on track.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

_**John Cena**_

Man, the heat that the fans are giving me is just off the charts!

Slowly, but surely, I've been making progress with this new rap star gimmick that creative thought I should run with. It's been a lot of fun, so far. They put me with Bull Buchanan for a little bit, then my character replaced him with Red Dogg, a rad cat by the name of Rodney Mack.

Tonight, even though I'm not carded, I'm sitting backstage at the 2002 _Armageddon _pay-per-view, thinking about next month's _Royal Rumble_. Man, it would be so awesome if I won it. But the top dog right now here is Brock Lesnar, last month he got screwed over by his "agent" Paul Heyman. It would be so awesome getting a run at Brock, but at the moment he's tied up with Kurt Angle. I heard around here that Stephanie McMahon and the writers team want to set something up between the two of them for _WrestleMania_. That would be awesome to see. No plans for me just yet. It would be cool to be at _WrestleMania_, taking part of the promotions.

Christmas is right around the corner, and Charlie Brennan is coming up to see his daughter. She's still trying to sell him about moving up to Missouri to be closer to her, since all he really has down in Texas is his shop. I don't know what's up with the rest of her family; Amberlea never talks about it, but I think it would be pretty good for the two of them to live close to each other.

I'm off to my home turf in New Westbury to spend it with my brothers and my parents. Dan's been seeing this new woman named Jessica that I'm finally going get to meet. My mom just told me Sean got engaged to his girlfriend Elisa. Sometimes that's kind of the lame thing about being so far away from the family; I wind up missing out

Randy's spending Christmas with his family, and I heard he's contemplating inviting Amberlea and Charlie to spend Christmas with them since it was going to be the two of them. I doubt that, though; Randy seems to be a bit of a chicken with Amberlea. For why, I have no idea; the rumours are backstage that he has a bit of a crush on Trish Stratus. Which is odd; I didn't know Randy was into blondes. I always had him pegged as a brunette guy.

Tonight I got to see them both; Amberlea is currently in a fatal-four-way match against Trish Stratus, Victoria and Jacqueline for the Women's Championship. She isn't supposed to come out victorious tonight, but sooner or later, her hard work is going to pay off. She's becoming such a well-rounded athlete and personality. I'm still waiting to see the photo spread of her in _WWE Magazine_. I think the issue goes on stands Tuesday. If the photographer understood what kind of a natural beauty Lea is, I'll bet that the photographs are going to be downright amazing. Her interview had gone well; nobody internally had cried foul, anyway. Not that I'd heard, anyway.

"Hey, man, what's up?"

I looked up to see Randy. His arm is officially out of the sling and he's improving by leaps and bounds each day. They're getting ready to stick him back on TV pretty soon. The ball is starting to roll, slowly but surely, with Triple H and this new faction. Dave Bautista's been taken from "Deacon Batista" on _SmackDown_ to be a member of this group.

"Yo, man. What's up?"

"Not too much. Kind of bored. Been watching the matches by myself. Amberlea's really holding her own out there, isn't she?"

"Yeah. She's really improving by leaps and bounds with these guys," I conceded. "How's your arm?"

"A bit stiff, but it's coming along really well. They're saying I could be back in the ring within the next couple weeks, so I can't complain. I've had my fill of this being injured and taking it easy shit."

"No doubt." Randy leaned against the trunk I was sitting on, arms crossed over his chest. In the distance, Eddie Guerrero was being interviewed for the DVD release regarding his match with Chris Benoit, a short, stumpy guy who just screamed intense. "So, what are you up to after the show tonight?"

"Not sure. Probably just going to pass out. You?"

"Probably the same. Got to be up early for _Raw _tomorrow."

"Yeah. I'm just heading off to the next town for _SmackDown_ early. No sense in going home for a day just to go out. Gives me a chance to get settled, sight-see and write some rhymes."

"Have you and your boys started the album yet?"

"I've got some stuff written, but I'm not too sure where we're going with it just yet. It's pretty much just brainstorming and basic outlines right now." He nodded. We looked up as the black curtains that separated us from the Gorilla opened and Lisa came through the curtains, the Women's Championship planted firmly over her shoulder. Trish came through next, only moments later, holding her lower back. I could have sworn I caught her and Randy locking eyes, but she just walked past us to the trainer's room. Jacqueline followed, limping a little bit from a misplaced kick. One of the backstage techs caught up with her and escorted her to the same trainer's office where Trish was receiving attention.

Finally, the curtains swung open and Amberlea came through, hand on her hip in a way that told me she had bumped it funny out in the ring. But she wasn't going to the trainer's room. Instead, she approached us.

"You okay, Lea?" I asked as she made her way over. She nodded.

"Yeah. I'll need a bit of ice tonight, but everything's fine." She looked over at Randy. "You still riding with Trish and I tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Unless you don't want me around…"

"Oh, cut it out," she chastised lightly with a laugh. "Trish and I are happy to have you around." I wanted to cut in and ask Amberlea about Trish and Randy, but I sure wasn't about to air anything in public. She flashed us her beautiful smile. "Now, I hate to do this, but I've got to go and get cleaned up. I don't want to miss the main event. I will catch you guys later, okay? Stay out of trouble, you two."

"Who, us?" Randy teased, cocking his eyebrow. I had to take a second look at him; he was actually teasing back. Maybe getting the sling off put him in a better mood than I realized. Amberlea smirked, gave us a goodbye and sauntered off down the hall, her hand never leaving her hip.

"Hope she's not hurt too seriously," I mused. Randy shrugged.

"If it was really bad, she'd be in seeing the trainer. I could say a lot of things about Amberlea, but I won't say she's stupid. Anyway, I've got to go talk to Vince. I will see you this week." I nodded and watched Randy leave. For some reason, just me on the trunk, I felt like the odd man out.

_**Randy Orton**_

My shoulder's a bit stiff, but thankfully getting better more and more every day. I don't want anything to happen that's going to fuck up this chance to work with Triple H and Ric Flair. Vince is really high on the idea, and Triple H is bursting at the seams with different ideas for this group he's calling "Evolution".

The meeting with Vince wasn't too bad. He just wanted a timetable on my return. He's a pretty intimidating guy, larger than life, but Triple H manages to get away with saying stuff to him that would probably get my ass fired. Then again, he's in real good with the McMahon family, so I have no doubt that plays a huge part of it. Stephanie sat in on our meeting. She's a pretty awesome chick, quick to make sure that everybody's comfortable backstage, especially if they had spent the night before out with her brother Shane.

I don't know Shane too well. He doesn't really sit in on any meetings or anything. Just keeps his head down and does his job. Vince's wife Linda is hardly ever on the road with us. She prefers to handle any WWE business from the headquarters in Stamford, Connecticut.

When the show ended, I just went back to my hotel. Trish, Amberlea and I were leaving early tomorrow and I needed to get as much rest as I could, considering I had volunteered to drive first. Not that I've told the girls yet, but I'm treating them to breakfast tomorrow as a thank you for driving me around so much while I was injured. Between Amberlea and Trish, they sure made sure I was taken care of on the road while I was recovering. Amberlea's even been helpful enough to help me with some of my physiotherapy exercises backstage. I really couldn't be any more fortunate to have a friend like her.

The hotel room isn't too bad; not one of the worst hotel rooms I've ever been in, but still nothing to write home about. At least it's clean. I threw my bags down on the floor and flopped back on the couch. Turning on the TV, I settled on some old _South Park_ re-run, putting my feet up on the coffee table. Sometimes it's just nice to have these moments to relax, especially once Evolution really gets started. I have a feeling it's going to be a lot of time spent with Hunter, Ric, and maybe Dave if the rumours are true.

I remember growing up, watching wrestling with my friends and wanting to be Ric Flair. Putting on my dad's bathrobe and staring in the mirror, trying to give the best "woo" I could muster. My mom used to laugh at me over it. My dad, on the other hand, would beam with pride. Ironically, years later when I told them that I wanted to try my hand in the business, they were both very reluctant, and both didn't want to see me go into the business. Thankfully, since they've both seen how I've been doing, they've come around. I wonder how Charlie must have taken it when he found out that this was the life Amberlea wanted. I know if I ever have a daughter, this is the last thing I'd want her to be doing. Not that I look down on the business; not by any means. It isn't even about the people back here. I'd support my child either way, but the sacrifices are so high. Especially for women, though that's something nobody ever talks about. The women probably sacrifice more for this business than anyone, sacrificing motherhood and stuff. They get put in the middle of the line between motherhood and career, and it's an unenviable position to be in. But I digress. We all make these choices because this is what we want. We want our dreams. But it's a shame to think that Amberlea is going to give up her chance to be a mother. I guess I shouldn't say that; who knows what the future holds?

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

I took an awkward hip toss from Lisa Marie tonight, and now there's a decent bruise forming on the bone.

Pulling off my black shirt and just randomly throwing it on the floor, I went towards the shower. Sure, it sucks I'm not the Women's Champion tonight, but the fact I got to go out and hang with three of the greatest WWE Divas, two of whom are my close friends. And in the morning, I get to travel onto the next town with two of my closest friends. The best part is I get paid to hang out with my best friends.

The shower was awesome; flopping down on the bed afterwards was even better. It's not the best hotel, but Trish is upstairs and Randy is four doors down, in case I need anything or want to hang out. Tonight, though, is all about getting some much needed rest after having such a hard fought battle tonight.

John and Randy have been a bit different lately. I don't know if they're picking up on it, or if I should say anything, but I sense some kind of underlying tension between the two of them. I could be paranoid, maybe it's just a by-product of Randy's moodiness. If anything were wrong, I know they would have had it all hashed out and water under the bridge by now.

I turned on the television and settled on a rerun of an old _Married With Children_, a show I used to watch with my dad every Sunday night growing up. My thoughts went to him; Christmas was ten days away; he'd be here in five to spend a few weeks, even though I was going to be on the road. A huge part of me wanted to talk to Vince about letting him travel with me. I didn't think it would be a problem; after all, everyone brought their families backstage at some point or another. And I would love for my dad to get to meet everyone, and get to visit with Randy and John for longer than a day or two. I think my dad and Randy would bond over motorcycles, and him and John would bond over sports. It's the best of both worlds.

Working with the WWE so far has been amazing. And going into 2003, I couldn't be more excited about what the future could bring for me. And for John and Randy. The three of us were going to reign supreme in 2003. Unstoppable. A huge part of me wants to take part in _WrestleMania_. From the sounds of it, it may be a possibility, as they're talking about Trish and I feuding with Victoria to the extent where they put me _against _Trish. Logistically, from a storyline standpoint, I don't get it, but I'm just willing to go with it and see to it that I give the fans the best that I can give them.


	12. Christmas Plans

_**Randy Orton**_

* * *

My palms are sweaty. Don't know why; it's fucking cold out.

I rang the doorbell at Amberlea's townhouse, jamming my hands back into my pockets in hopes of keeping them warm. Tomorrow, Amberlea's father was set to arrive, and I was hoping to pitch some Christmas plans to her before her father arrived.

Amberlea opened the door, dressed in a red V-necked sweater and black slacks. I was instantly hit with the smell of peppermint, pine and cookies. My mouth began to water.

"Randy?"

Of course she was surprised to see me. I hadn't called to let her know that I was coming. A part of me is pretty sure that had I called, she still would have doubted that I was coming. I seemed to have somehow built this strange reputation with her. "Hey."

"Come on in. Did you want some hot chocolate or something?"

"Actually, I would love some," I replied. "It's fucking cold out!"

She stepped back and let me enter the house. In the short time she's been living here, she has really gone above and beyond to make it look like a home. Photos of her and her father, and her with her mother lined the stairway that would take me upstairs to the main house area. When I got up the stairs, I found a huge photograph of her, me and John at the OVW camp hanging on the wall behind the couch. I was speechless. She knew why, too; she blushed.

"I, uh, had the photo blown up. I really like that photo of the three of us. Keeps me grounded too, remembering the days when we were just starving indie wrestlers trying to make it." Everything inside of me wanted to reach out and hug her, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Wordlessly, she went into the kitchen and I sat down on the other side of the island counter while she put on a kettle to boil. "So, what brings you here?"

"I, uh, wanted to talk to you about something before your dad arrived." I cleared my throat. Suddenly the room was very hot. I felt almost claustrophobic. Why did I have to be so nervous about this?

"Sure. What's up?"

"Well, what are you guys doing for Christmas?"

"Not too much," she answered. "The two of us are probably going to stay in and just keep a low profile." She scooped a few decorated sugar cookies out of the cookie jar and put them on a small plate, sliding them over to me. Against my bodybuilder's judgment, I took one shaped like a star and decorated to the nines and bit in as the kettle came to a boil. "How about you, Randy?"

"Not too much; commiserating with the family. Which is why I wanted to ask…if you and your dad wanted to…would you guys like to…" I don't get why I'm feeling so shy around such a great friend of mine; I guess a part of me figures she's going to reject the idea. "Would you guys like to join up with my family for Christmas?"

She stared at me, her face surprised. She then went to the fridge and pulled out the milk. "Is your family okay with it?"

"Yeah. Totally; I told my parents it was just you and your dad, and they thought it would be cool if they got to meet your dad and everybody just had time to hang out…" _Sweet Jesus, I'm rambling. _I took a breath. "Feel free to say no all you like, but it's just an idea."

"Well, I can't promise you anything right now because my dad's not here. But I'll hit him up about that tomorrow when he gets here. I don't see there being any problem with it."

I felt myself perk up like a pet. Like her pet. "Great! That's great!"

"You didn't want to call about that?" she asked me. I felt a burning, a blush, threaten to take me over. I shrugged.

"I thought I could use some time out of the house, and I thought you could use some company."

"I appreciate that. It's been pretty uneventful for me; I cleaned up the house, put up the tree, decorated and did some baking today."

"Really? Sounds like you've been busy."

"For the most part. The tree's pretty much done, but I haven't put the star up yet. The cookies came out of the oven and then you knocked on the door…"

"Oh yeah," I teased. "Blame it on me."

"Goddamn it, Randal, it's all your fault." I cocked an eyebrow at the flustered expression on her face before I broke out into laughter. "Oh, so you do know how to laugh," she teased. She went around the island counter where I was sitting and towards the tree. There was an enormous window that pretty much took up three quarters of the wall beside the couch, where the tree was set up right in the middle of. Putting my mug down, I stood up and followed her. She held up the star. "We had one just like this when I was a kid. Dad still has it, but I couldn't ask him to part with his star…it was my mom's..." I saw her face soften, a hand slowly reaching to the back of her head, but she shook it off and put a smile on her face. It surprised me; this was probably the darkest I had ever seen her. She handed me the star.

"I'm tall, but you're a giraffe. Care to do the honors for me?" she asked. I nodded, taking it from her and putting it up. It was a special moment between the two of us, something between friends, something comfortable that neither of us had to speak about.

Amberlea flopped down on her couch, running a hand through her hair. "I think I deserve a break. If you're not in a rush, want to watch a movie?"

"Yeah, sure. We still need to watch _Army of Darkness_."

"You're really up for that? I don't think John was too stoked with the whole vine raping thing in the first one. Or the self amputation in the second one. I didn't think he was so squeamish."

"_Army of Darkness_ good?"

"You know it." I sat down beside her on the couch, the scent of her Vanilla Fields perfume greeting me. It's nice having her so close; it's great having a friend that I can go visit whenever I feel like it. It's awesome.

* * *

_**John Cena**_

* * *

Christmas is coming up faster than I realize, and I still haven't managed to find the time to shop. Though I did pick up something for Amberlea when I was in Sacramento, stopping in at a boutique to pick her up something she could wear in the ring. Hopefully she likes it; it's a leather jacket with deep red buckles and straps. Looks very old-school punk rock. Hopefully, it does something to set her apart as a Diva. The bikini shoot she did a week ago might help, but to those who don't read the magazine, it'd be nice to set her apart from Trish, from Lita.

My parents were waiting for me to arrive next week, on Christmas Eve. So far things were rolling around nicely, with Paul Heyman informing me that I was, in fact, going to take part in the _Royal Rumble_ next month. No word on who is supposed to win, but word is that the Undertaker is supposed to come back as well. Brock Lesnar is supposed to be in there with us, so I suppose he's the shoo-in at the moment, even if nobody comes right out and says it. With him getting "screwed over" for the title so many times since _Survivor Series_, it seems that winning the _Rumble_ for a guaranteed spot at Angle in the _WrestleMania_ main event seems to be the logical way out.

Kurt Angle's been a pretty cool mentor to me since I started, and so has Eddie Guerrero. For Christmas this year I called this place that specializes in fruit bouquets to send to Kurt and Eddie and their families to say thanks for all the countless hours and effort they've put into making me a better wrestler and a better performer.

Shopping for my family is hard, and shopping for Randy is pretty hard, too. I thought about a bottle of Midol, but I doubt Randy would find it that funny. Amberlea would probably smack me upside the head, too. I wonder what she's doing for Christmas; I know her dad is set to land tomorrow.

I haven't bothered decorating the apartment for Christmas, considering that I'm not going to be home for the holidays. What's the point? I know to Amberlea, it's preserving a tradition, regardless if she's travelling or not, but to me, it's just extra work to do on my days off. I digress, though.

Backstage at _SmackDown_ has been fairly uneventful, with the exception of Dawn Marie making eyes at me while planning to "marry" Torrie Wilson's father. The wedding is supposed to take place in a few weeks on _SmackDown_, while Torrie is pretty much having a nervous breakdown. It's all kayfabe, but there is word that Dawn Marie really is getting too close for comfort with Al Wilson. Who knows? I've been keeping my head on myself, doing me, and the last thing I want to do is get sucked into the middle of a Diva battle. Especially one that had nothing to do with me in the first place; I'd just look like a big busy body.

Dan called at the hotel this morning, wanting to know when I'd be in for Christmas. It's kind of funny how into the holidays he gets. Or maybe he just wants to see me; who knows? I told him I still had a week to sort it out and I'd call him for with the information. He sounded kind of upset that I didn't have anything arranged already to tell him; I almost felt like I had told him the truth about Santa Claus. We hung up the phone and I went about my day, heading out to the arena early to go over some stuff with Eddie Guerrero, who I'm set to feud with in the next couple weeks. He's a fun, infectious guy, and his nephew Chavo is pretty awesome, too. The Guerrero family, much like the Ortons and the Maivias, and the Harts - they are a wrestling dynasty. So in that sense, I really and truly am learning from the best. Throw in Olympic gold medalist Kurt Angle, and I think they have truly helped me in setting a foundation for a decent career.

Tonight on the docket, there wasn't much going on. Going back to the hotel, watch some _Simpsons_ and go to bed. After spending the last few days doing tapings, I finally get to go home, see the inside of my living room, repack and make more flight information for next week and for Christmas. The life of a wrestler; living out of a suitcase. But it's all right, because within the next few weeks, I get to go home to my family and show everybody how well I've been doing.

* * *

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

* * *

Randy passed out on the couch at about ten. I couldn't believe it; mind you, who knows what kind of night he had the night before. The constant traveling, driving, I guess it just caught up to him. He was leaned over the side of the couch, head rested against the back of the couch. He looked so cute, even though he's positioned so awkward. Despite being one of the moodiest men I know, Randy actually looks so peaceful when he sleeps. I went to the main closet and grabbed a fleece blanket, bringing it back and covering him up.

It's been a great day with Randy. We watched a bunch of scary, gory horror movies that would have put John into a catatonic state. I invited him to stay for dinner, and we sat watching _Texas Chainsaw Massacre_ while we ate, both of us turning a bit green eating our burgers and listening to how headcheese is made. Call it morbid, but I call it bonding in the best way. Gathering up the bowl of chips and the glasses of soda, I moved about quietly so I wouldn't wake him. He needed his rest. I grabbed a spare pillow out of the closet after thinking about it and put it down on the other end of the couch in case he woke up. I wrote him a note, informing him that the couch folds out into a big bed, just in case he tried to get comfortable and wound up realizing that at six-four, he was too tall for the couch, or that he had fallen asleep on the couch.

I went into my room and got changed into my pajamas, turning off the light and settling in. It was going to be a busy day tomorrow. Dad had phoned at about eight o'clock my time; he was landing at twelve-thirty, and excited to be spending the holidays with me. Vice versa, too; sometimes it's hard not really having any family close by. For as long as I can remember it's always been me and Dad. I still miss my mother; I hope she's proud of what I've been able to accomplish.

I can't remember much about the accident; I was about four when it happened. Part of me can vaguely remember the white walls, the stretcher, the doctors and nurses in white. My dad in tears. Sometimes I wish I didn't remember any of that. Thankfully, my hair covers up the nastiest scar. It had taken a few stitches to close it up; Dad said that they had been able to see my skull. Whenever I hear that, it just gives me the creeps.

My childhood wasn't rough by any stretch of the imagination, despite everything, and I think a lot of that was Dad overcompensating for the fact that I had lost Mom so young. I could have taken advantage of it; could have been a troublemaker. Once the wrestling bug had bitten me, though, I didn't want to do anything but become the best female wrestler since Fabulous Moolah. Since Alundra Blayze.

The clock is ticking, but I wasn't all that surprised to find that I couldn't sleep. Even though I've been here for a while now, I still don't really feel at home. Maybe it's hard to feel at home when I live out of a suitcase; I don't know what it is. It could be that I don't feel at home because I'm not close to my family. Hopefully that will change; but a huge part of me doesn't want to go back to Texas. I like where I am right now. With John. With Randy. Between the two of them, it keeps me sane. Without my father, these two are the only people I have close to me that I consider family. They're like my brothers; I love them both to death, even if Randy is a moody guy who seems to hate me ninety percent of the time.

Having Christmas dinner with the Ortons is going to be interesting. I wonder why Randy even made the suggestion. Maybe he thinks it'll be too lonely if it's just Dad and I here. That could be it. Either way, I appreciate the thought. Despite the moodiness, Randy really can be a sweetheart.


	13. Merry Christmas

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

* * *

"Come with me," Randy said to me, taking me by the wrist and leading me towards a back room at his parent's house. Dinner had been over for about half an hour, and now Dad was talking sports with Bob and Elaine. Randy's siblings were parked in front of the television, fighting over something to watch. Curious, I let Randy lead me towards the room at the back of the house, the room that had once been his. I kept my eyes closed like he had commanded, letting him lead the way.

I heard the light switch flick and he led me into the center of the room. He let me go, leaving me standing by myself in the middle of the room. "Keep your eyes closed. No peeking," he commanded. I put my hands on my hips and huffed.

"What are you going to show me? If it's a severed head, I'm going to be _very_ upset." Hooray for _Wayne's World. _Greatest. Movie. Ever.

"You can open your eyes now."

I opened them and screamed as I found myself eye-to-eye with a snake, its tongue slithering between its lips. "Randy! What the fuck?" I screamed, scrambling to get away from it. I hate snakes. Something about the way they slither just freaks me out. I had practically scaled the bedroom wall and plastered myself to the ceiling.

"Amberlea, it's fine," he laughed, putting it back its tank. "These guys are the most docile type of snake; won't bite." Shuddering, I stepped slowly over to the tank. "I call him Killer. He's hypomelanistic."

"What does that mean?" I asked, still keeping a good distance away while being close at the same time.

"It's a rare pigment that causes the reds, whites and oranges on them to become more vivid, while their eyes remain dark." I stared at Killer; beautiful thing, even if it did give me the creeps.

"I didn't know you were into snakes."

"I used to have one as a kid. Loved that thing. Jake The Snake was always my favorite wrestler growing up, too."

"Makes sense now. Why isn't he at the apartment?"

"John won't let me have him. He's even more afraid of this thing than you are. This isn't the reason why I brought you in here by the way."

"Bull."

"No bullshit, Amberlea. I got you something for Christmas. I didn't want to give it to you in front of the family, you know, since Nate and Becky love to bug me so much." I smiled. I'd given him a box set of the _Nightmare on Elm Street_ series on DVD. Horror fans like us have got to stick together.

"Close your eyes," he said to me. My face became incredulous.

"Again?"

"It won't be for but a minute," he said to me, that mischievous, elfish grin spreading across his features.

"If I open my eyes and that snake is over my shoulders, I will kill you where you stand." He snickered.

"Nothing to do with the snake. I promise." I heard some rustling. Within seconds I could smell his Obsession cologne close to me again. "Okay, Amberlea, open your eyes." When I opened them, he handed me a black bag. Cocking an eyebrow, I opened it up to find a little box. Pulling it out, I opened the box to find a gold, heart-shaped locket. "Wow…" I breathed.

"Open it up," he told me, a grin on his face.

When I opened it up, I felt my heart warm up and shatter all at the same time. In a good way, if that's possible. On one side was a photo of John and I from our days in California, while on the other side was a photo of Randy. I looked up at him. "Oh, my God…Randy, this is so sweet."

"Glad you like it. John gave me the pictures."

"Randy…" I felt hot, stinging tears of sentimentality burning behind my eyelids, but I refused to cry in his presence. I took it out of the box and held it up. It moved, left to right, exposing me to John and Randy second after second.

"Are you going to put it on, or are you just going to stand there with it?" he asked.

"Sure." I handed him the chain and pulled my hair back so he could clasp the chain. When it was fastened and resting against me, I brought my hand to it, feeling the cool gold heart. This was really beautiful. I didn't want to gush anymore about it, though, considering I didn't want to make Randy blush.

"Merry Christmas, Amberlea."

"Merry Christmas, Randy."

* * *

_**John Cena**_

* * *

Christmas with the family is always a pretty epic event. Two days, thanks in large part to my parent's divorce when I was seventeen. I don't think I've ever eaten so much turkey, ham and stuffing, let alone drank so much eggnog in my entire life. It's always nice seeing Dan, Sean, Steve and Matt. Meeting girlfriends, seeing relatives. It's great and all, but I have another day to enjoy things with the family before I have to go back on the road for _SmackDown_. So far, the family seems to be proud of what I'm doing. My brothers have been ripping on me hard, about everything from my freestyle rhymes to the fact that I'm still single, despite their knowledge of me hanging out with one of the hottest Divas in the division.

Amberlea, Randy and I had met up before we left. Randy hadn't picked up Amberlea's present yet. He had asked me for a photo of her and I together; what for, I have no idea. When we had gotten to the restaurant, he had told me that it wasn't ready just yet. Lea loved her jacket. She always feels just impossible to shop for.

I had picked up Randy a season of _South Park_. He's a huge fan of the show. It's pretty much the first thing I learned that I had in common with Randy. It had been a fitting get together among friends before we had to scatter to the four winds for our holidays.

_SmackDown_ is getting poised to have the year of John Cena. I can sense it. I can feel it. Everybody's been pretty happy with the shit I've been doing on the mic. On top of that, I've been writing stuff for the new album, which has been good for this trip. Between Marc and I, we've been throwing ideas back and forth at each other, free-styling, laughing. I want this to be the best possible album that it could be.

2003 could be a good year for all of us, even Randy, who is set to make his return sooner rather than later after that nasty shoulder injury. It seems like the rumors are true, and he is going to be pairing up with Ric Flair and Triple H. At one point, I was a little bit jealous that he was getting that kind of attention from two of the industry's top guys; but I know now that my career is going just as well, and even better, it's on my own terms.

Amberlea is getting ready to _finally_ chase Victoria for the Women's Championship, which could mean that she will get a spot on the _WrestleMania_ card in March. It's pretty much a lock that the main event is going to be with Brock Lesnar and Kurt Angle for the WWE Championship, which is sure to set the bar. Both men are just monster athletes. It also sounds like I'm going to be getting into a mini-feud with Brock, to keep him distracted from Kurt for a little bit, and to show management that I can take the ball and run with having a high profile feud. Yep, life couldn't get much better right now. The pay checks are a bit bigger than the independent circuit, the travel is great, the friends are amazing, and at the end of the day, I can go to sleep knowing that one day, my dream of being the WWE Champion will be realized. And if I have it my way, it's going to be way sooner, rather than way later.

* * *

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

* * *

I flopped down on my couch, exhausted from spending a great day with my father and the Orton family. I was glad to see Dad and Bob really hit it off. Ever since Mom died, Dad's always just pretty much kept to himself, working and taking care of me. Seeing him make friends makes me happy. People are so easily intimidated by the biker look he's got going, but beneath the beard and the leather, he's really just a broken man who had to pick up the pieces and take care of me.

Dad stared at the locket on my chest. "That's quite the beautiful thing he got you."

"I know," I gushed, allowing my fingers to run over the smooth surface. "He said John gave him the pictures."

"I'm thankful you have these guys looking out for you on the road when I'm not around."

"They're sweethearts, Dad. I'm pretty lucky I found two awesome guys. We are always looking out for each other, trying to make sure that nobody takes advantage. I think we've got a pretty good system worked out." He nodded. I could see something in his eyes. They were clouded over with sadness.

"Your mother would be so proud of all this, Lea."

"You think so?" I asked.

"Without a doubt. I'm really proud of you, Lea. You've done really well really young." I felt a blush beginning to burn, along with some tears forming behind my eyelids. Sometimes it's hard, with Mom dying when I was so young. I can barely remember her. Dad's always been good about answering my questions, but I know it pains him having to answer them. So, after a while, when I was a teenager, I just quit trying to ask, as hard as it was to do it. Dad needed his peace as much as I need to know.

From what I know, my mom, Sarah, and my dad were high school sweethearts who met on the first day of the tenth grade. They shared a metal shop class together; Mom was just as much of a car and bike enthusiast as my dad. That was their connection. He said there was something much more than just love between the two of them, something about a spiritual connection that bound them together. He loved her so very much.

Dad stared at the wedding ring on his finger, the ring he had refused to take off after so many years, and smiled. "Sarah would be so proud." He clapped his hands together. "How about some hot chocolate?"

"That would be great, Dad," I replied, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. I wonder all the time if I will ever find something like what they had. He got up and went into the kitchen, having made himself at home a good week ago.

I thought about what 2003 was going to hold for me now that 2002 was drawing to a close. Things were going great, learning the ropes from WWE's dominant Diva Trish Stratus, but I think it was starting to become time for me to make a name on my own, and it was apparent to everyone that I didn't need to learn too much more. I had a bit of a feud going on with Molly Holly right now, and they didn't want to turn me heel. It looked like my next feud was going to be with either Jazz or Jacqueline. A part of me hoped for Jazz, just because it would be neat to have a storyline where I'd be the underdog. But who knows? I just like to go with the flow. Trish has been teaching me about positive energy and yoga lately, and I find since I've been listening and doing yoga with her, I've been a lot more peaceful internally. Not that I was ever in turmoil.

New Year's Eve is coming up soon, and this year, I told everybody that I was going to host a New Year's Eve party, though I had no idea just how on Earth I was going to do that. I still had maybe about a quarter of the house still to unpack and a whole bunch of other things to decide. Thankfully, John would be back from West Newbury by that time and would be able to help me out in the decorations department. It's pretty exciting, getting the chance to party with everybody and let them meet my dad. After all, at the end of the day, we're all family under the big, fun umbrella that is the World Wrestling Entertainment.


	14. WrestleMania Plans

_**John Cena**_

* * *

So I'm not going to make it onto the _WrestleMania _card this year.

I'm bummed out about it, but there has been talk about me headlining _Backlash _with Brock Lesnar. I'm remaining cautiously optimistic; things can change back here on a dime. But Kurt is apparently hurt bad, and he's going to need time off post-_WrestleMania_, so there's a good chance I can get in there. It's a miracle the guy can still compete. I've been hearing rumors that he's quickly losing feeling in his right arm. Surgery looks like the only alternative. He's still determined to go at _WrestleMania_, though. I can't blame him; the pay is worth it. It's the biggest night of the year. The man is a machine.

Thanks in large part to the F5 I took to the ring post on February thirteenth, I've gotten to enjoy some time off to do the album, before coming back to interject myself into the Lesnar/Angle feud. The fans love to hate me, which is pretty good. I'm still on the lower mid-card, but if what they're saying is true about putting me in a feud with the Undertaker in the next few months, then there's a good shot I could be up on the upper-mid-card, main event level in no time. Working with the Undertaker is the best way to get a career boost. My fingers are totally crossed for that.

Amberlea is finally getting ready to challenge for the Women's Championship at _WrestleMania_, in a fatal four way between her, Trish Stratus, Victoria and Jazz, who she is now feuding with. It's set to be a pretty brutal feud between two brutal Divas, but the fans are planted firmly behind Amberlea, who took a hell of a beating on Monday backstage during an interview. She and Jazz had pretty much torn apart the entire interview set and it really left Lea battered, bruised and with a dislocated finger that she found more uncomfortable and inconvenient than she found painful. She's a hell of a trooper.

My knee did get legit banged up, but it wasn't anything some ice for a week couldn't handle. I've still been filming little rap vignettes for the show, which are generating some pretty decent heat with the fans. I'm pretty much right now just the little pit-bull attacking the apathetic champion. He has no interest in taking me on, thanks in large part to the feud with Angle.

With _WrestleMania_ around the corner, the atmosphere around WWE is just electric. Nu metal band Limp Bizkit has been confirmed to play the show, more than likely performing Taker's old entrance theme. Safeco Field is going to have the roof blown off the place, and the word is we're probably going to break the attendance record there. Not by much, but it's still a pretty nifty record to have.

"John, got some neat news for you, if you're interested," Billy Kidman said to me one day in catering. I was munching on a carrot stick, waiting to tape an interview with Josh Mathews regarding my return. It was three days before _WrestleMania_, and everybody backstage was just downright electric.

"Yeah. What's up?"

"You may not be on the _WrestleMania _card this year, but it looks like your services are still going to be needed." I cocked an eyebrow as I sipped from a small bottle of water.

"What do you mean?"

"Sounds like the brass want to set up something with you before _WrestleMania_. A battle rap of sorts."

"Against who?"

"I have no idea, John. I just heard the news not five minutes ago. Thought I'd rush here and tell you, so you could take it up with Vince and get the details worked out."

"I appreciate that, Billy. How's Torrie doing?" Billy's face darkened. Torrie had just done a spread for the April 2003 issue of _Playboy_, and Billy wasn't quite sure how much he liked having his fiancée out in the open like that. I sympathize with him; if I had a girlfriend who did that, as much as the publicity is good for the company, I'd probably feel a bit uncomfortable knowing that everybody on the face of the Earth knows what I go to bed with at night.

"Fine. Sounds like the feud with Dawn Marie is dying down. Word is we're about to get another dose of Attitude Era here."

"What do you mean?"

"Sounds like Sable is coming back."

"Get out of here. Didn't she sue?"

"Yeah. That's what makes the entire thing so head scratching," Billy confessed. "From what Jacqueline's been saying on _Raw_, the poor girls here could be in a lot of trouble, considering Sable tends to get stuck up, jealous and just all-around unlikable." He shrugged. "I mean, I don't know her personally, but Jacqueline and Ivory are really pretty much the only two women here who worked with Sable back in the day. I don't think I've ever heard somebody be so universally disliked by the women's division." A part of me was very thankful to know that if what Billy was saying was true, that Amberlea was fastened securely on the _Raw_ brand, as a brunette face alongside Trish Stratus and Stacy Keibler. She was very nicely filling the void that Lita had left, thanks in huge part to an unfortunate neck injury she suffered while filming _Dark Angel_.

"Well, I'm sure between Torrie and Dawn Marie, they can keep Sable in check."

"Good luck with that one. She's probably going to return with the same big ego that drove her out in the first place," Billy replied. "Jackie and Lisa are flabbergasted by this."

"I am a bit, too. I remember the split being pretty bad, from what I read in the news." That's the thing about Vince, though; he thinks the fans want to see people from the past again, he is more than willing to forgive transgressions and bring them back, regardless of how many times they screw him over. The Ultimate Warrior debacle had left a lot of people scratching their heads, myself included.

"Yeah. Vince doesn't like to talk about it. I bet you he can't even count the number of women who have gone after this company for sexual harassment."

"Yeah. I think that might be a safe bet," I replied, taking another sip of water. "It's insane, though. Maybe it just means they're looking to do more stuff in-ring with the _SmackDown_ Divas, seeing as Torrie, Dawn and Nidia have improved so much."

"That could be it," Billy conceded. I excused myself to go catch up with somebody on creative to find out what I'm supposed to do at _WrestleMania_. I felt a new glimmer of hope springing up; it's a good feeling to know that even though I'm off the card, I'm on the event, and that's a great start.

* * *

_**Randy Orton**_

* * *

God damn it.

I managed to make it two months without getting hurt. This time, it's my foot, broken in large part because of Bubba Dudley's fat ass landing on it. Then, the guy had the audacity to yell at me for "hurting his back", even though he hurt his back by landing on and breaking _my_ foot. It was an awful match; D-Von was probably the only one who didn't get hurt. Dave wound up re-tearing his triceps, and he's going to be out longer than I am. On the bright side, Triple H and Ric are willing to wait for us to heal up before resuming Evolution. Those two are refusing to give up on us and find somebody else, and for that I'm eternally grateful. Still, though, it sucks knowing full well that after healing from one injury, I now have to wait to heal from another.

Amberlea's been a great friend, driving me back and forth to doctor's appointments and physiotherapy, stopping in a few nights a week to make dinner or surprise me with takeout. No matter how much I tell her she's not my nurse, she never seems to listen. It doesn't even faze her when I put on an angry face and tell her to go home and rest up. She's been balancing her WWE schedule and my recovery schedule so well that it's almost mind numbing. Above and beyond doesn't even begin to describe how she's been as a friend.

She's been lending me some of her music non-stop, getting me into different bands. In the past few months, her tastes have shifted from hard rock and metal to Gothic rock and industrial, it seems like. It's been all right; she's such a smart girl and the more I talk to her, the more I am in awe of her and her self-discipline and focus. She seems to just get everything, from music to movies to wrestling. It's been interesting, getting to know her better and better the last few months than I ever have. Slowly, but surely, I think she's starting to get comfortable around me. I couldn't be more thankful for that. Lately, I often wonder just where I would be without her right now.

* * *

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

* * *

I am so totally getting ready to pummel some serious Diva ass at _WrestleMania_, even though it sounds like I'm not going to get another shot at the Women's title until _Bad Blood_. From the sounds of it, Trish is going to take the belt off of Victoria at _Mania, _who is going to in turn drop it to Jazz at _Backlash_, who is going to in turn drop it to me at _Bad Blood. _From there, who knows what's going to happen. All I know is that within the next three months, I'm going to get to live out my dream of being the World Wrestling Entertainment's resident Women's Champion. I can't wait.

"Hey."

I looked up to see Trish enter the room with Nora and Jacqueline, all of them cheerful, holding bottles of water. "Hey, guys. What's up?"

"Not too much. Getting excited for your first _WrestleMania_?"

"Totally. I can't believe I'm going to get to be there," I replied. My thoughts went back to Randy; he was going to have to miss it, thanks in part to Bubba breaking his foot. I know Randy's been very upset about it, but he wouldn't vent to me about it. Bubba has been a total jerk about everything; more or less badmouthing Randy to anybody who will listen. I've wanted to say something about it, but the last thing I want is to get enormous heat on me for back-talking a veteran. And I know Bubba would go out of his way to make my life difficult. I wonder how Devon can put up with him; he's the complete opposite of his partner; considerate, thoughtful, an all around sweetheart. Bubba's just a loudmouth bully.

Dad's going to move up here in the summer. I'm excited about that. He's in the process of franchising his business up here so he can have something to keep himself busy while I'm off traveling. He's in town right now, sharing a room with me so that he can see me compete in my first _WrestleMania_. It's been a pretty awesome week; I've gotten to do some press junkets for the upcoming show. I'm pretty excited to meet Limp Bizkit; _Chocolate Starfish_ is one of my favorite albums. Hopefully I can get Fred Durst to autograph my copy.

I'll bet Randy's thankful I'm in Seattle for the week; I don't think he's liked me looking out for him. He always informs me that I'm not his mother and not his nurse. But he's been incapacitated and limited, so I've been trying to help him out as much as I can. It gives me something to do during the week while I'm waiting to leave again anyways. I shook my head.

"I bet your dad is really proud of seeing you compete," Nora replied. I nodded.

"He's beaming right now. I've been taking him with me on press junkets and stuff," I replied. "You wouldn't believe how spellbound he is by everything."

"I can imagine," Trish said with a smile, sitting down beside me. She leaned back against the wall. "I remember my first _WrestleMania_ as a competitor last year…it was so awesome getting to do my thing in front of my friends and family at the SkyDome. To me, it doesn't get much better than that." I nodded.

"The first time my family saw me wrestle was at an indie show," Nora confessed, sitting down with Jacqueline. "It was amazing. To know that you have a family that supports you enough to come out and see you do something you love."

"So, did you hear about Sable coming back?" Jacqueline asked. "I sure hope they aren't sending her here."

"I'm assuming you two really didn't like each other?" I asked, surprised. Sable had been one of the most recognizable female faces in the WWF back in 1999 before leaving under the worst possible terms. The fact that they were bringing her back was stunning in itself, just because she had burned some serious bridges.

"At the beginning, it was fine," Jacqueline informed me. "Rena's a great girl at heart, I think, but she's used to being the main attraction. And competition makes her very, very insecure. And she got like that with a lot of us. Sunny, me, Terri. After her first _Playboy_ shoot, her ego just got out of control. She felt like she was above all of us. I really hope she isn't that way when she comes back here or she is just not going to last long."

"It's a shame. Such a beautiful woman," I mused. A huge part of me didn't think that they would put her on _Raw_. Not to sound harsh, but at her age and the absence from the ring, I just can't see her getting into the ring very much. And, right now, the tough, ready-to-go, kick-ass and take names Divas were on _Raw_.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

_**Randy Orton**_

"Dad, you ready?"

The family and I were all together to watch_ WrestleMania XIX_ at Dad's house. I was excited; the main event between Brock Lesnar and Kurt Angle was sure to raise the bar, and I've been following the Triple H-Ric Flair tandem very, very closely, considering that I needed to know everything that I could before I go back. It never looks good if you don't know anything about your own angle. Tonight, Trips was going to take on Booker T for the championship. It's a pretty stacked card, and it seems to be one of the best _WrestleMania_ cards in the last couple of years.

"Wow, aren't you impatient, Randy?" Mom teased with a snicker, bringing out a huge platter of pizza rolls. Nate and Becky were sitting between me on the couch, sipping on pop.

"Well, we could have had this ready to go _before _the show started," I replied with a roll of my eyes. WWE had managed to get Ashanti, one of the hottest new R&B artists out there, to sing "America The Beautiful" for the event. Along with Limp Bizkit and a nice setup in Safeco Field, Vince really had gone all out this year. I hoped I could stay healthy so I can compete to be in _WrestleMania XX _next year at Madison Square Garden.

To be a gentleman, I called Amberlea and John both this morning and wished them good luck tonight. It was a huge night for Amberlea, and a pretty big night for John, even though his battle rap against the cardboard, Austin Power-ized cut-outs of Jay-Z and Fabolous had tanked with the crowd. I don't think it was necessarily John's fault; he'd only been given three days to prep everything. But still, it was a pretty lame segment. Never mind who I am, just as a person who loves the business, it was pretty weak.

"When's your girlfriend set to go on?" Nate teased. I shot him a dark stare. Since Amberlea's been taking care of me so much, he's been picking on me about her being my girlfriend. The best thing to do with Nate would be to not even acknowledge him, since anything I could say would just encourage him. Thankfully, Dad finally entered with a case of beer, Mom right behind him with soda. Matt Hardy was taking on Rey Mysterio, who I would one day absolutely love to get into the ring with.

"Oh, Nathan, stop picking on your brother," Mom chastised gently. I rolled my eyes as Dad handed me a beer. Cracking the can open, I took a sip. I'd be a total liar to say that I wasn't upset that I had to miss it. At the same time, though, and I vow this - this will be the last year that I miss out on a _WrestleMania_.

"Try not to feel too down about things," Dad said. Sometimes it shocks me how much he can read me like a book. He took a sip of his beer. "You'll be competing in _WrestleMania_ for years to come. Sure, you've had a lot of bumps, but everything will smooth out, believe me."

I nodded, a wave of pessimism rushing over me. Sometimes, I hate the fact that I slip in and out of moods. I sipped on my beer some more, rolling my eyes at Stacy Keibler and Torrie Wilson talking with some chicks I'd never even heard of. Right now they were doing something with Torrie because she had posed in _Playboy_. I'm sure it was empowering to her and everything, but I don't think anyone should just be given a spot on the biggest card of the year because they posed naked. If it were any other pay-per-view, fine. But _WrestleMania_ is not only the biggest pay-per-view of the year, it's also the most expensive to pay for. I don't see why people would want their time wasted if they're paying sixty dollars for three hours.

I bit back a sigh and took another sip of beer. The feud between Amberlea and Jazz has really been heating up. I've been very impressed with the tenacity Amberlea's been showing in the ring with Jazz, because that woman is a total beast The first time I saw Amberlea get her into that crazy French finisher of hers, I was stunned. The strength it must have taken to get her up and over like that…it's just incredible.

_**John Cena**_

Thank God I'm not afraid to look like a total idiot.

I bombed out there hard. It was deathly quiet. I think I saw a tumbleweed roll across the ring. I got a little bit of heat initially, but it didn't last. We were supposed to have some rappers here, but they didn't show up in time. Improvising sucks hard.

But, it's my first _WrestleMania_, and even though I'm not on the card, I'm still here, which is still a step above Randy, who has to sit at home and watch it on TV. Amberlea's doing the best out of all of us so far. Management is blown away by her, and everybody who knows about our friendship is quick to tell me how they see big things for her. It makes me proud of her.

Tonight, she's a bit bummed out that she's not going to get the Women's Championship, but she'll have it within the next ninety days. She's done so well since arriving here. It's also great to be backstage with her, considering we're all on separate brands now. Tonight, after the show, her, Trish, Lisa, me and Rey Mysterio are all going to get together and go out for dinner, which should be a lot of fun.

Seattle's been electric all week. Appearances to the brim, schedules full, balls-to-the-wall relentless, it's been a great kind of chaos. I got to actually do an interview for Q13 news with Amberlea. It's been amazing.

I greeted Lea when she made her way through the curtains after her match. She was holding her elbow, having landed on it awkwardly after Jazz had thrown her out of the ring. She shook it off as I gave her a hug. "Great job out there."

"Never mind me," she replied, "Trish is totally tied for the record with Moolah and Ivory now. This is a _huge_ night for her!" She turned as Trish made her way through the curtain. Applauding, Lea gave her a huge hug. Trish, mascara running, title awkwardly slung over her shoulder, laughed.

"What a match!" Trish said. "You okay? I saw you holding your arm out there."

"Yeah. Nothing some ice tonight can't handle," she replied. "You getting excited for tonight?"

"Yeah. Dinner!" We all laughed. I bid the girls farewell and went back to my locker room to catch the rest of the show. There is no way I want to be the one who missed out on Brock Lesnar and Kurt Angle.

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

The main event was a disaster. Brock missed the Shooting Star Press and landed on his head. He's lucky all he wound up with is a bad concussion, because I thought he broke his neck. Kurt's in just as bad shape; both of them are on their way to the hospital.

Steve and Dwayne decided to join us tonight, for reasons unknown to me. Trish is pretty good friends with Dwayne, who is good friends with Steve, so I guess it does kind of make sense. I also invited Jonathan Coachman, who I get along with pretty well. I thought it would be nice to include him in things, too, since he never really goes out with anybody after the shows and does things.

We found a nice little place maybe five or six miles away from the arena, a bar and grill that was finally starting to clear out. Sitting together, we all ordered our drinks and began to talk about the night.

"What about that pillow fight tonight?" John said, grimacing as he picked up a menu. I snickered.

"No offence, Coach, but we were kind of the losers on that one for seeing you in your underwear."

"None taken," he said with a laugh. "It would have been nice if Torrie and Stacy told me that they were going to do that. That whole segment was an abomination anyways."

"Does anybody have an update on Kurt and Brock?"

"They're at the hospital. Took forever to get Brock to agree to go into the ambulance. It was getting pretty scary. I was pretty sure he was going to take a crack at Stephanie." I shuddered; Brock is a monster of a man. "Kurt, on the other hand, has no other alternative now but to go and have surgery. Internally, there's no timetable for when he could be back." The waitress arrived with our drinks.

"How are you feeling, Steve?" I asked. He had spent the night before in the hospital, in really bad shape. The night before, after working out with Kevin Nash, he came back and thought he was suffering a heart attack. They had to pump him with five IV bags to rehydrate him because he was working out like crazy to get ready for this match and not replenishing what he was losing. JR had been absolutely beside himself last night. Everyone internally is keeping everything pretty hush-hush so the fans don't find out, but somehow John had found out and told me what had happened.

He shrugged. "I'm all right. It was a pretty scary night last night."

"No doubt," Trish replied. She had heard the news from Victoria, who had heard it from Nora, who had heard it from Charles Robinson, the referee. How the news spread is beyond me, but good luck to them if they hope to keep it under wraps. Somebody's bound to blab.

"What a match between Kurt and Brock tonight," Dwayne said, sipping on his beer. "Absolute insanity. What was he thinking getting up there?"

"He used to do that in OVW," John replied in Brock's defence.

"He should have known Kurt was too far across the ring," I replied. "He was crazy to think he could make it."

"I know he was, but _WrestleMania_ is pretty good at bringing the crazy out," Lisa replied. We all had a good laugh as the waitress returned to take our order. As great as this night has been, I wish Randy could have been here to enjoy it with us. Then it would really feel like old times, even though these huge, famous veterans are sitting here with us, eating with us and telling us stories of what it was like to be the defining faces of the Attitude Era. It's one of those moments that when I'm old, retired and have a litter of kids and grandkids, I'll be more than happy to tell them about.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

_**Randy Orton**_

Why can't anybody just have their shit together _before_ we start doing something.

Amberlea's pretty good about that, granted. But John is just the worst. Right now we're waiting to start the first _Friday the 13th_ movie, and John is taking forever to get here. Amberlea's in the kitchen, making dinner for us, while John is supposed to be out getting snacks. Granted, she finished minutes ago; but she's trying to keep everything warm and scorched-free while waiting for Your Royal Procrastinator.

I finally heard his car pull into the driveway as Amberlea served up dinner. It smelled amazing; homemade pasta salad, steaks and baked potatoes. Amberlea had also run out and picked up some Mike's Hard Lemonade. She was making it feel like summer and it was barely even April yet.

The cast finally came off two days ago, now I'm just working on strengthening it before I get back into the ring, this month or next month. I got up to try and help Amberlea with dinner when she got started, but she told me to sit down. She even whacked me with a rubber spatula. Girl's got quite the swing.

Outside, the car door slammed as I took a sip of lemonade, greeted with the DVD menu. Sick of looking at it, I looked out the spacious window of her townhouse. It really was a beautiful, cozy little place for just her. Amberlea moved from around the island counter and brought dinner to the table. "You know I could help you," I said, "Doctor said I need to strengthen my foot…"

"Just hush. You're a guest. Just relax." I rolled my eyes, and sipped my drink, not saying another word in argument. The door finally opened and John made his way in. "Did you go to fucking Canada for that shit?" I asked. John ever so eloquently flashed me his middle finger as he placed everything on the counter.

"Dinner's on the table," Amberlea told him. He nodded, flashing her a smile. Hugging her tightly, he made his way over to the couch and sat down beside me, pulling the dinner plate over to him, to make sure Amberlea wasn't sitting between us. I wasn't going to let that bother me tonight, though; I was happy enough to be having a _Friday the 13__th_ marathon with Amberlea and John.

Amberlea finally joined us, sitting down beside John. "Ready to get this started?" The sun had yet to set below the horizon, casting a nice warm glow inside of the house.

"Fuck yeah!" John and I hooted. Amberlea hit the play button.

Life on _Raw_ was going pretty good for Amberlea right now. She had another springtime themed photo shoot coming up with Trish Stratus that was sure to set people's heads spinning. The Women's Championship was going to be in her grasp within the next two months, and then she would get to tear the house down with others like Nora, Amy, Trish and Lisa.

On the other hand, life on _SmackDown_ was going pretty good for John as well, even though everybody knew there was not a shot in hell that he was going to be taking the belt off of Brock. His raps are getting over more and more every week, and it won't be long before he finds a huge foothold and refuse to give it up. Now, I just need to make sure that I stay healthy long enough to find my footing. I try not to feel like my friends are leaving me in the dust, but sometimes it's pretty hard not to think of things that way.

Dave called the other day, asking me if Bubba Dudley had called me to make sure I was okay. Why would he? The guy's a dick. A total dick. Nothing redeemable about him. Dave seemed to echo the same sentiment. On the other hand, Devon calls at least once a week to make sure everything's been going great. Sometimes I wonder how Devon puts up with Mark.

_**John Cena**_

Randy gave me the dirtiest look tonight when I got into the house. Did I interrupt something between him and Lea?

Shake it off, Champ, I told myself quietly. You're being paranoid. There is nothing going on between the two of them. I'd be a total idiot, though, if I hadn't noticed that they had gotten a lot closer to each other after Randy broke his foot in the ring.

Amberlea was rested back against her couch, a Mike's Hard Lemonade in hand. We're on _Friday the 13__th__ Part III_, and Amberlea is starting to nod off, drowsy from the alcohol. Every time I've tried to wake her up since the last bit of part two, she's been insisting over and over that she's all right, that she's awake, even though Randy and I both know different.

It's been a fun night, though we've all eaten way too much and drank way too much. Amberlea has a guest room and the couch set up for us to crash on so we aren't driving drunk. Randy and I did a best of three rock-paper-scissors tournament and I won the spare room. Thank God Orton's predictable.

I was the first to call it in, drunk, sore and tired. I stumbled my way into the bedroom halfway through _A New Beginning_ and crashed onto the bed. Crazy enough, even though I was drunk-tired, I couldn't go to sleep. Instead, I found myself straining to hear what Randy and Lea were saying to one another. Why I've been so possessive of Lea is beyond me; maybe it's because I'm flashing on heavy weather ahead with Randy. Who knows?

I went out on a date with Dawn Marie last week. Pretty awkward date. I kind of felt like I was out with Missy Hyatt or something. She pretty much just wanted to nail me. Not that I would normally complain; hell, we even got as far as her hotel room, but I just couldn't do it. It didn't feel right at all.

Maybe that's why I'm so possessive of Amberlea; she's pretty much the only real non-familial female I have in my life, my only real contact with women in and outside of the ring. No wonder things had tanked with Dawn Marie; my game's so rusty.

A part of me wonders if Amberlea has even ever had a boyfriend; the way she tells it, she's been driven to this business since she started training. Since she lived with me, I've never even seen her go on a date, not that a few guys didn't try in California, or even in Kentucky. With how gorgeous she is, I know there isn't a man alive that wouldn't mind taking a shot at her.

I rolled onto my side, letting out an aggravated sigh. Out in the living room, I could hear only the sounds of women screaming, and the _whoosh_ of a weapon before the contact with flesh. For a girl who looks as sweet and demure as she does, she sure does have a violence fetish, it seems like. I rolled onto my back; for some reason I just can't get comfortable. Maybe it doesn't help that my big wide frame has me half off of the bed. Maybe Randy was the real winner here. Damn it.

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

So difficult to sleep tonight.

It's funny; alcohol usually makes me pretty tired. But John was the first to crash. Randy the second. And now here I am, stuck in my room inside my silent house with two of my best friends, unable to sleep.

Sometimes, it's funny. I wake up and I look in the mirror. I wonder where the years went. I feel like I completely forget things. As happy as I am with being a WWE Diva, I wonder if I sacrificed too much too soon. I'm being ridiculous; I know it. I think of Randy, who has had this business embedded inside of him his entire life, with his father, his uncle, his grandfather. Sure, I'm not from generations of wrestlers, but it embedded in me just the same as it did for Randy.

I rolled onto my side and watched the clock. It was going on three in the morning. A part of me wondered if John and Randy were having just as hard of a time falling asleep as I was, though I don't want to go out there and harass them.

Turning on my lamp, I sat back and grabbed the book I've been reading. There's no possible way I'm going to sleep now. Sigh.


	17. Personal Lives

_**John Cena**_

* * *

Wow, this is awkward.

Dawn Marie won't even give me a second glance tonight. Guess I fucked things up pretty good with her. Good luck for me getting a second chance.

I don't know what she told people back here about our date, but now I feel uncomfortable around everybody. I feel like everyone is scrutinizing me, with the exception of Billy and Torrie, who are both far from sympathetic to my plight. I have a weird feeling that the reason everyone is staring at me so weirdly falls on Dawn Marie.

"I told you she was trouble, John," Torrie informed me matter-of-factly, fixing her bleached blonde hair in the mirror that leaned against the trunk I was sitting on. "You wouldn't listen to me."

"I know, I know," I replied, hanging my head in an emotion that I could only describe as shame. Thank God Amberlea isn't as judgmental as this girl; Torrie has only been reading me the Riot Act since she found out that the two of us were going on a date. She turned to Kidman. "I have to go. Match with Nidia. I'll see you later." He nodded, and, with a kiss on his cheek, Torrie took off towards the Gorilla.

Outside of the Dawn Debacle, things aren't going too bad; Brock Lesnar totally squashed me at _Backlash_, which is now going to set me up to feud with the Undertaker. I couldn't be more excited about that. If I can hold up my end of this feud, and make it entertaining, then I'll be more over than I am now. Right now, I think the people in the stands love watching me get my ass kicked. Some I think even enjoy my freestyle rhymes.

"Wrong person to get sympathy from, man," Billy observed, ripping me out of my thoughts. I shrugged, but nodded.

"Wasn't looking for it, bro," I assured him.

"So, you looking forward to this feud with Taker?"

"Totally. I'm no dumb ass; I know this is a big opportunity." I clapped my hands together enthusiastically. "I can't even begin to tell you how excited I am to be working with one of the best in the world."

"I know," Billy agreed. "Must mean that everyone has high hopes for you. Congrats, man. It's huge." He looked over, where John Laurenaitis was talking to Kurt Angle. "I hate to do this, man, but I need to go talk to Johnny Ace about some stuff. I'll catch you later?"

"Yeah. Sure thing, bro. Catch you later." Billy just walked away, leaving me feeling awkward.

"Hello, John." I jumped, startled, turning to face a new kid by the name of Orlando Jordan approaching me. He was going to be a bit of a catalyst in my feud with the Dead Man. We slapped hands together. "What's up, man?"

"Not too much. What's going on with you?"

"Not a whole lot. Wanted to see how things are going with you, since it seems like we're set to start this Undertaker stuff pretty quick."

"Yeah. I really can't wait."

"So, I heard you're into rapping."

"Yeah. Working on my first album right now with some friends and family," I confessed. "We're just writing stuff on my days off. Then it'll be the heavy stuff."

"Sounds cool. Can't wait to hear it."

"Thanks. Means a lot to hear. Getting ready for your first match?"

"Yeah. Feels pretty crazy being up here on the main roster."

"You'll get used to it," I assured him. "It just takes a few months. Want to get something from catering? I'll give you some heads up on the people around here." His face took on the expression of relief; it's never easy for the new guys to fit in.

"I would really appreciate that," he informed me. With a nod, we both walked towards the catering area, talking about music.

* * *

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

* * *

Randy will be back in the ring next month! To say I'm excited would be the understatement of the century. Unfortunately, though, with the whole Evolution thing, he's not going to be travelling with Trish and I for a long, long time, if he ever does again.

Lately, he's been more different than usual; moodier, a little bit more aloof and snobbish. We aren't keeping in touch as much these days. I'd be a liar to say that didn't bother me. A part of me wants to blame the Hunter-Flair-Batista trifecta, but Randy is an adult. An even bigger part of me thinks that there's a good chance that he's having the too-young-too-soon syndrome that's going to bottom out on him if he doesn't play it safe.

Thankfully, even though I don't see Randy much, we still do our once a week dinner dates with John, who is really doing well on _SmackDown_. I'm so proud of him; his work ethic is just off the charts.

Tonight, I'm sitting by myself at home, watching _XXX_, rolling my eyes at how much of a pre-packaged MTV commercial this Vin Diesel movie seemed to be. Curled on the couch, with a glass of soda and a small bowl of dill pickle chips, I was more than happy to be having a normal, low-profile, uneventful night. It always seems like even when I have time off, I'm busy with interviews, photo shoots, training, daily errands. Sometimes it's nice to just have a few hours to chill, to forget about the fast-paced, wall-to-wall lifestyle of the WWE.

I jumped when the phone rang, pausing the movie. It's midnight here; I really should be in bed, and nobody should be calling so late, but I can't be mad if I'm still awake. Pausing the movie I answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Lea, sorry it's late. I figured you'd be up though."

"John?"

"Yeah. Sorry; I'm having a hell of a time sleeping tonight. I can't contain myself over this upcoming Undertaker feud."

"It's understandable, John. I know I'm having a hard time sleeping knowing full well that I'll be able to say that I'm a Women's Champion this year." I readjusted on the couch and took a sip of my Mountain Dew. "So, John, you haven't told me how your date with Dawn Marie went."

"Trying not to think about it."

"That bad?" I inquired, my face darkening. It was no secret that John had a crush on Dawn Marie. Both he and Randy seemed to be into brunettes.

"Yeah. Let's not go into it. Just know that the _SmackDown_ locker room seems to think I'm a wacko or something now."

"Do you want me to poke and prod around and see if anybody's heard anything she's been saying?"

"Nah. Thanks for the offer, Lea, but I'm just going to call it a loss."

"Okay, John. Sorry it didn't work out."

"Don't worry about it; there'll be others. Now, what about you? Haven't you gone on a date?"

"No, I haven't. Not that Batista and Goldberg haven't been trying. It's kind of gross; the two of them are old enough to be my dad. Anyways, I thought they were married?"

"Goldberg isn't, I don't think, but yeah, Dave is most definitely married," John informed me. "It appears to be a turbulent marriage, but there's still a ring on his finger nonetheless." There was a pause. "You interested in any of them?"

"No," I answered emphatically.

"Have you ever thought of going on a date, Lea? You need to have some kind of a love life."

"Eventually, when I meet somebody I like. Right now, I'm just fine where I'm at, with my friends, my family and my career." John knew better than to argue this with me, and just let it go, instead changing the subject to his upcoming feud with the Undertaker.

* * *

_**Randy Orton**_

* * *

Hunter and Ric are consuming all of my time.

Normally, I wouldn't complain, but I can tell Amberlea is starting to feel pretty displaced by me being so aloof and away from her all the time. Not that she'd come out and say it; even though we're good friends, I know she finds me hard to approach. I wonder why that is.

Tonight, I can't stop thinking about her. About the locket around her neck with the photos of her, John and I that she refuses to take off. About her laugh, her smile, the way she is always willing to make time for John and I. Mostly, I've been thinking about ways to pay her back for all the time she's spent taking care of my injury-prone ass.

I'm watching one of the _Nightmare on Elm Street_ movies from the box set she got me for Christmas. I think it's the fourth. The one where the redhead gets prettier after the blonde dies. With the beach dream. Who knows? I was half asleep when I picked it out, just like I'm half asleep now. I thought about calling her, but I was pretty sure she was asleep.

John's at _SmackDown_ tonight, bouncing back from what I heard from Ric Flair was a disastrous date with Dawn Marie. Which surprised me; from the way he acts, I always figured he just had eyes for Amberlea.

At least I still get to see her once a week. The guys are trying to get me to move up to Connecticut, but there's no way I'm just going to drop everything here and go there. It's a different time from my father's time; with airplanes, tour buses, GPS and online hotel booking, we can stay situated and at least provide some stability for our families. Not that I have one of those. I guess the truth is, after all the work I did convincing Amberlea and her family to move here, I don't want to just up and leave her by herself in a place where she still hardly knows anyone.

She tells me John's been poking and prodding in her personal life a lot more than usual the last time I spoke to her alone. Amberlea seems a bit perturbed about it, but doesn't want to start any problems. It's embarrassing to her because he's only really concerned about her love life. It bugs me, too; just what in the hell is he trying to pull?


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

_**Randy Orton**_

To say I'm in pain right now would be a huge understatement.

I just got finished doing the main event of _Summer Slam - _a barbaric match known as the Elimination Chamber, coated with chain, glass and metal. Bill Goldberg is fucked over hard; word here around the back is that he split the back of his calf open so deep and so wide that they could see the muscle popping in and out of the skin as he moved. Definitely not pretty. Luckily I managed to make it out with the usual bumps and bruises. So far so good in the injury department. Hunter is saying that Dave is going to be off of injured reserve pretty soon, within the next month to go into _Unforgiven._

John's doing pretty well, too; his feud with Undertaker seemed to go kaput at _Vengeance_, with management sticking him back against Eddie Guerrero over the United States Championship that Stephanie McMahon re-introduced back at _Vengeance_ in July. At the moment, Taker's storyline is helping Stephanie McMahon against her father, my boss, over the whole Hulk Hogan-Mr. America debacle. I've met Hogan a few times growing up, but it's been pretty different seeing him now that I'm grown up and understand things. Childhood ignorance is bliss; sometimes I'd give the world just to get it back.

Amberlea actually agreed to a date with Bill Goldberg about a month ago. She wasn't into it, but I could tell somebody was pulling the strings there; more than likely John. It went badly; I could tell. She refuses to talk about it. I could have sworn that she had fingerprint bruises on her arm as well, but I could be crazy - she wore long sleeved shirts for weeks. John and I actually got into a bit of an argument over what his invasive questioning and advice giving had wound up doing to Amberlea. Couldn't get John to butt out, though, and Amberlea's cooled to the both of us, so I have no idea what he told her about me.

Tonight, we all competed, with Amberlea and John in a mixed, inter-promotional tag match prior to the show starting. Of course, John, as the heel, teamed up with Dawn Marie, and Amberlea, the face, teamed up with Maven, a cool guy who won the first _Tough Enough_ contest a few years back. I think he's interested in Amberlea, but who knows? Word going around back here is that he is hooking up with Gail Kim, a Korean-Canadian export from Toronto. Everyone thinks the surge of Internet websites related to us leaves fans confused; I have a hard enough time following things back here, too. Worse than a soap opera at times.

Evolution came out dominant in the Elimination Chamber, even though I got eliminated fairly early. It was Dave, Ric and I who interfered to give Trips his win. The fans thoroughly hate us right now, but we're definitely the cool crew of heels, a modernized version of the Four Horsemen. It's been an exciting ride so far; and I can only hope this will mean big things come for Dave and I when it's time to split with Hunter and Ric.

Amberlea is holed up in her locker room with Trish. Part of me wants to go to her and ask about what was said about me, but tonight is a party kind of night. Stephanie understands that we need to project an image, so she's pretty much okay with the idea of her fiancé going off and flirting and acting like a douche bag towards other women. They have something pretty special, pretty solid. I wonder if I'll ever find anybody like that.

Tonight, we're going to some place called the _Cheetah Club_. I think it's a strip club. I can't be sure, but it's what the name sounds like. I think a few other guys are coming out with us, but Ric seems kind of adamant that we hang out with nobody and live it up on our own, just the four of is. It's the funny thing about Ric; he's just so damn old school.

Amberlea and I barely talk backstage anymore. I'm not sure if it's because Hunter and Ric monopolize all my time or what, but it's like we've splintered and fragmented into some kind of high school clique. It's strange. I'm not really sure what there is that I can do to hold everything together.

_**John Cena**_

Boy, has Amberlea been salty with me since the Bill Goldberg date.

I don't even know what happened, but I imagine it was worse than anything I could imagine, since she became hostile, defensive, and angry with me over the entire situation. Randy, too, even though he had nothing to do with anything. Lea pretty much reamed me out; told me that from here in on, what she does in her own life is none of my business unless she asks.

Tonight, I'm at home, getting ready to fly out for _SmackDown_ tomorrow. Things are going good right now. Sometimes I don't think creative knows what they're doing with me, but I know at the end of the day they are all puppet masters of Vince McMahon's. There is a grand plan for me, I know it. I just need to keep doing what I'm doing and getting over with the fans.

The album's going good, but it's definitely eating up my time at home. It's a miracle I see the inside of my living room when I'm off between promotional appearances and going up to Massachusetts to do some work with Marc and the guys. So far, it sounds like we're going to do a full on, seventeen-track LP, which we're working under the tentative title _Basic Thuganomics_. Anything can change though.

I always forget how comfortable my couch is; then again, how often am I on it? Tonight I'm having an eighties Arnold Schwarzenegger marathon; you know, _Commando, The Running Man, Terminator, Predator_. I love_ Predator_. Probably one of my all-time favorite movies. I got a glass of root beer in one hand, and a bowl of butter-free popcorn resting beside me.

Tonight's _Raw_ was good. Trips has put a big bounty on the head of Bill Goldberg, trying to completely debilitate him before their upcoming bout at _Unforgiven_. Lita is returning, tying up Trish Stratus, Molly Holly and Gail Kim. With her hellacious feud with Jazz ending, Lea has now found herself tied up with Victoria. The Divas division can't get any better at the moment, with all the women on _Raw_ holding their own.

It's always important for me to catch _Raw_, even though I'm not on it. Not just for Lea and Randy, either, but to look at the competition and learn from it. Triple H said he doesn't watch _SmackDown_; to me, for a guy who is set to marry the boss's daughter, it just doesn't seem right to admit that. Maybe it's because he's a veteran that he can get away with saying such a thing, who knows? It just strikes me as wrong.

In the dating department, all has been quiet on the western front. If I'm not meeting her backstage, then I seriously have no time to meet somebody. I've been keeping ridiculously busy, more so now that Amberlea and Randy are both irked with me. I was just trying to help. It's too bad they aren't realizing that. I'm sure they'll come around, Lea especially. I just don't like how horrible they're making me feel over it.

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

Trish and I were sitting in a café with Amy Dumas a few hours after _Raw_ went off the air. I needed a latte and a piece of cheesecake. Trish and Amy were more than happy to join me. They know it's been a lame couple of weeks for me, so they've really been going out of their way to be nice to me.

"I can't believe you even listened to John in that department!" Amy replied with a shake of her head. "If you can't trust your own instincts, don't trust anybody else's!"

"I learned that now," I answered, sipping on my drink. "The thing is, I know he means well, and he was just trying to help, but God…it was such a nightmarish date that I can't help but blame him at least a little."

"It's natural," Trish replied. "We saw the bruises!"

The fingerprint bruises that Bill had left in my arm had faded a few days ago, but I'll never forget they were there. The way he had grabbed me when I tried to get out of his car; the way he had yanked me back…it was scary. I had felt a crack in my shoulder; I thought for a moment that my shoulder had been dislocated. That would have been a great one to explain to Vince.

Amy and Trish are face-palming about the fact that I'm not reporting him to Vince over his conduct outside of the ring. I can't see him being around for much longer anyways; Linda McMahon said that she is disappointed in what Goldberg has brought to the WWE, while the internet community is screaming sabotage. How on Earth can a guy be sabotaged when he made a career in a lesser company for knowing two moves? I ran a hand through my hair.

"You should have reported him," Trish informed me, taking a bite of her apple pie. "You can't let somebody get like that with you and suffer no consequences."

"It's fine. I'd rather just take this as a learning experience and let it go. I don't want to be _that_ Diva." Trish and Amy shook their heads.

"It's not about being _that _Diva. It's about making sure that nobody takes advantage of you. You're still so young," Amy replied, taking a bite of her Devil's Food cake. "Blaming John may not be the right thing, but I understand what you're saying. Because he totally pushed you into it, you feel he's responsible for how bad it was."

"Exactly." I took a bite of my cherry cheesecake. It was pretty much just Sara Lee with cherry pie filling on top, but to me at the moment, it's the best damn cheesecake I've ever had.

"Why in the hell is John so interested in your love life anyways?" Trish asked. "That's a bit creepy."

"He means well. It's just that he knows I've missed out on so much to get here and now that I'm here, he just wants to see me have some normal experiences."

"Nothing about Bill Goldberg is normal," Amy said with a roll of her eyes. "To be fair, Goldberg does not make up the entire male dating population."

"I know. Thank God. What a jerk."

"Well, if he gives you any problems, tell somebody for crying out loud," Trish replied. "I can't believe that you aren't going to report his ass."

"I'd just rather let it go, take it as a lesson learned," I repeated. "Besides, I'd probably sooner get released than he would." Trish and Amy exchanged odd glances with one another. I could tell they didn't like my attitude about things, but whatever. I took a sip of my latte. So far, I'm still Women's Champion. I'm set to drop it to Molly Holly next month, so she and Lita can have a one-off match at _Survivor Series_. Vince didn't want to stick two faces against each other, and not only that, he doesn't want to turn me heel just yet.

"So, what are you up to for your week?" Trish inquired.

"The usual. I keep a pretty low-profile, quiet existence outside of this chaos." They understand; we're in the middle of a circus for about three hundred days a year. When we can, keeping a mellow environment and a low profile is the most important thing.


	19. Crime and Punishment

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

* * *

I was busy talking to Lisa Marie when Randy approached, dressed in the brand new Evolution T-shirt and slacks. His hair was damp from the shower he had after his match. Lisa Marie told me she had to go talk to Julie, the company seamstress, leaving me alone with him. I tried to calm myself down. I've been feeling guilty about not being in much contact with them in the past two weeks.

"Hey. Can we talk?" Randy asked. I nodded, following him towards the back of the arena, away from prying eyes.

"What's up?" I asked when we stopped. Trish passed us, giving me a quick hug and saying goodbye before disappearing down the hallway. She was out of my sight in seconds.

"Did I do something to piss you off?" he asked me, his expression darkening in a way I was all-too-familiar with. I shook my head. "Don't lie to me, Amberlea. You never cancel dinner."

"I know, but Dad never has to get his gallbladder removed," I told him, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. A couple days ago, I had dyed my hair one color, removing the streaks and leaving it a chocolate brown. Something flickered in Randy's eyes. I'm not sure if he felt bad, I don't know, but his face softened.

"Is your dad okay?"

"Oh yeah, he'll be okay. He's resting comfortably. But the past week has been kind of difficult, waiting for the incision to close and such."

"I can imagine."

"I'm really sorry. I didn't want to cancel, but you have to know I wouldn't have cancelled our time unless it was really important." I studied the expression on his face. "You do know that, right?"

"I guess I do now," he confessed. "To be honest, Amberlea, I thought you've been angry at John and I over the whole Bill Goldberg debacle."

"Why would I be mad at you, Randy? You certainly didn't push me into going out on a date, preaching about how healthy it is for me to go out there and have normal experiences."

"Level with me, Amberlea - he was rough with you, wasn't he? That's why you're upset."

I sighed. That was all he needed. I never could lie to him or John. Randy shook his head, slamming his hand on a trunk. I jumped, startled at his outburst. Then he was gone, booking it down the hallway. I leaned against the wall and put an exasperated hand to my forehead. I contemplated going after him and stopping him from doing something he was going to regret, or even worse, something stupid.

"Hey, Lea. You okay?"

I looked up to see Nora and Gail standing in front of me. The two of them were still in their ring gear. I exhaled. "Fine," I said. "But I may have just signed Bill Goldberg's death warrant."

"Over the date?" Gail asked. I nodded. It wasn't a secret in the Divas locker room what had happened. They had seen the bruises he had left on my arms when he had gotten aggressive with me. It didn't take Albert Einstein to put two and two together.

"I've never been able to lie to them, so I've been trying to avoid them..."

"You mean Randy and John?" Nora asked. I nodded. Nora smiled sadly and hugged me tightly. Like Trish, Nora is a sweetheart, always looking out for me.

"If what you're saying is true, then you don't want to be anywhere in the vicinity when Randy goes after Bill," Gail told me. "Come on. We're taking you back to the Divas locker room."

I opened my mouth to protest, but there was no way they were going to let me argue. I didn't want to hear or see Randy go after Bill. Nora linked one arm through my left side and Gail took the other. Reluctantly, I kept looking down the hallway, waiting for the inevitable rush of people trying to break up the scuffle, but nothing had happened yet.

* * *

_**Randy Orton**_

* * *

I found the son of a bitch sipping coffee at catering. He was by himself, dressed like he was a tough guy in his leather jacket with the white stripe. His chrome dome was shining off the lights. I stormed over to him without thinking and tapped his shoulder. He turned to me, scoffing at my presence.

"What the fuck do you want?" he snarled. Before I could catch myself, I slapped the coffee cup out of his hand. It flew down the hallway and spilled everywhere. He knew full well that I meant business now. We were nose to nose, the only sound in the silence being the sound of our snarled breathing.

"You want to start something, motherfucker?" Bill snarled.

"I'm more than willing to start something, asshole," I growled, my voice so guttural and vicious that for a moment I wasn't even sure it came from me. It sounded like a stranger was talking. "You like to rough up the girls around here? Not on my fucking watch. Especially not Amberlea."

"That fucking cock-tease?" Bill chuckled. "You're starting shit with _me _over that fucking whore?"

Before I could catch myself, I swung and hit him square in the nose. He stumbled backwards, crashing into the catering table and knocking over the coffee canister. It fell on its side with a hard thump and began pumping coffee out all over the table. He was on me in an instant, but I managed to get him into a front face-lock, reefing on his neck over and over until I felt the multiple arms of security trying to pull us apart.

"Wrong fucking move, Orton!" Bill shouted over the throngs of guards. He tried to throw them off of him, but thankfully he couldn't do it. I didn't even bother to try fighting the security guards; I had the upper hand by the time they showed up. Thank God for the element of surprise, because I do think on any given day he could have squashed me without breaking a sweat.

"Break it up, break it up!" Vince shouted, stepping in between us. I felt my heart drop down to my stomach. Hunter was two steps behind him with Stephanie. Vince turned to Hunter. "You deal with Orton!" Hunter nodded and reached through the throngs of security guards, grabbing me roughly by the arm at the crook of the elbow and dragging me back to his locker room.

Hunter slammed the door shut behind him after he practically threw me in the room. "What the fuck, Randy?" Hunter bellowed.

"I had a very good reason for what I just did!" I snapped back at Hunter. With the adrenaline worn off, I could feel some pain in my ribcage. Bill probably got a shot off, but I couldn't remember it. Hunter smirked.

"Oh yeah? What the fuck would that be?"

"Hunter, he fucking roughed up my best friend! Then had the audacity to call her a whore and a cock tease!" I shook my head. "You didn't see the bruises he left on her arms. I'll take all the trouble that comes my way over this, but I stand by it - I am in the right here!"

I took a deep breath, my fists clenched by my sides as I seethed and seethed. Hunter stared at me intensely for a few minutes, before his face lightened up.

"Chivalry's not dead, I guess," Hunter snickered. "If I go and talk to Amberlea, do you think she'll back you up?"

"I sure in the hell hope so," I replied. "The whole reason she never reported him was because she figured she'd be fired." Hunter nodded.

"Well, I'm sure if I talk to her and assure her that her job is safe, then we won't have a problem. You wait here." I nodded and Hunter bolted out of the room with severe urgency. I sank down to the bench.

What in the hell did I step into?

* * *

_**John Cena**_

* * *

"Yo."

"John, it's Trish."

I motioned to my mother that I would be right back, that I needed to take the call in private. I stepped through the sliding glass door and onto the porch, closing the door behind me. "Hey, Trish. What's good?"

"Nothing is good, John. All hell's broken loose backstage tonight."

"What? What's going on?"

"Randy found out about what happened on Lea's date with Bill, and he actually went and _attacked_ Bill. There was this huge fight in catering; they knocked stuff all over the place. Vince is pissed, and Amberlea is beside herself."

"What?" I felt a feeling of dread wash over me. Randy got into a fight, because of what happened with the date Amberlea refused to talk to me about…but…how in the hell did Randy find out? Did she tell him?

"She blames me, doesn't she?" I sighed. "She thinks this is all my fault. That's why she's not the one calling about this."

"Actually, she's in a meeting with Shane and Stephanie right now," Trish answered. "They want to get her side of things before they proceed with punishment."

"She blames me, doesn't she?" I repeated. Trish sighed.

"I couldn't tell you if she does or not, John. She hasn't really talked about everything with us, either." A huge part of me knew that Trish was blatantly lying to me, but that's what I get for asking people to talk about what she's doing. I sighed.

"Well, tell her to call me, all right? I'm worried about her."

"Will do, John. Just thought I'd let you know." We said our goodbyes and hung up. I called Lea's phone, then I called Randy's phone. Neither of them answered, so I left them each a voicemail message telling them to call me back, though I doubted either of them would. Sliding the phone back in my pocket, with a deep sigh, I went back into the living room to finish the movie with Mom and Sean.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

_**John Cena**_

Amberlea, Randy and I gathered for dinner in our usual spot on Thursday, with the three of us having a lot of tension to hash out. Amberlea looked stunning as usual; her chocolate hair pulled back in a sweet, elegant up-do, with black bell-bottomed slacks and a long, flowing sky blue top with bell-shaped sleeves. Randy was his usual dour self, and I was dressed up casual in my usual shorts and jersey.

"How's everyone doing tonight?" Lea, the last to arrive, asked as she slid into the booth beside Randy.

"Good, good," I replied, handing her a menu. "You should see the waitress tonight, Randy. Hot little number named Rachel." Randy stared at me in surprise, but shook his head and thumbed through the menu.

The waitress approached, the beautiful strawberry blonde who had seated me, and flashed me an enormous megawatt smile. "Hello, guys. Can I start you off with a drink?" she asked.

"You sure can," I replied. "Bottle of Budweiser." Randy closed his menu and mumbled something about a strawberry milkshake. Lea ordered a Shirley Temple and she walked off. We went quiet, looking through the menu for a meal. The tension was killing me, but I wasn't about to strike up a conversation about it until the waitress took our order and we were certain to have some time to ourselves to discuss it undisturbed.

When she finally returned, I ordered some nachos. Lea ordered a chicken Caesar salad and Randy ordered a steak. When Rachel had collected the menus and walked away towards the kitchen, I finally turned all of my attention onto them. "So, what in the hell is going on? Is my name Hitler?"

"John, please don't…" Lea said to me, her voice soft, eyes pleading.

"Sorry, Lea, but I have to. You blame me for everything that happened, don't you?"

"No," she insisted, pausing, taking a deep sigh. "I don't. But, John, I swear if you ever push me into having a 'normal experience' again, I will kill you." Randy nodded in agreement, watching me through his beady eyes. I bit my lip. Now would have been the perfect time to call Randy out for his newfound hostility towards me, but for some reason I didn't. Maybe it was the sight of Amberlea's hazel eyes pleading with me not to make anymore of a scene than I had already done regarding her date with Goldberg. I heard that Randy had gotten into a fight with Goldberg after he heard all the details of the date, something neither of the would give me. Vince had let Randy off with a reprieve, and now Hunter is pretty much babysitting his ass all over the world. We fell into an awkward silence; things were changing between the three of us, and I'm not sure why. I can tell Randy and Lea sense it, too.

The thick tension in the air seemed to break when the hot little number with the name tag Rachel came back with our dinner. Lea poked and prodded at her salad. I could tell her thoughts were elsewhere, but I didn't want to try and draw it out of her. Especially since she had just dressed me down about getting too involved in her personal life. I wish she would understand that I'm just trying to help. All work and no play makes Jill a dull girl, and I don't want to see her fall into that. She needs to have a life, to love, to do the things she didn't get to do while she was out training for this life.

Randy picked at his steak, numbly munching on French fries, his eyes never leaving me. There was something behind those beady eyes that I could sense from him, and I can honestly say that I don't like it. If Amberlea picked up on it, she never said a word, instead stuck in her own world, thinking about things that she didn't want me to be privy to. I sighed and cut into my steak; why do things have to get so complicated?

_**Randy Orton**_

I pulled up in front of my house on the back of Amberlea's motorcycle. I finally got to have a ride on this thing, and I can't be more excited about the day that I finally get my license. Then I'd have to take her for a ride. I climbed off of the bike and handed her the spare helmet she kept in the back of the bike. She slid her leg over the bike so she was leaned against it.

"Is everything okay?" I asked. "You were pretty quiet at dinner."

"Yeah. Everything's fine," she replied. "It's just been a long few months. 2003 has been a really busy year for us."

"Isn't that the truth?"

"Are you all right?" she asked. "If looks could kill, you probably would have murdered John at the table tonight."

"Yeah. Everything's fine," I assured her, not wanting to drag her into anything. "He means well, but I just don't like seeing you get hurt."

"I'm a tough cookie," she replied, a soft smile tugging at her angelic features. I wish I could believe her; she's still so very much vulnerable in so many ways. From what John's told me, she's never even had a boyfriend. Why this information is so important to John is beyond me, but it is. My hand shot out in front of me before I could catch it and I brushed my hand against her face. She stared at me dumbfounded. "You had a spot on your face," I lied. Quick cover. Smooth move, Randal. Her mouth formed a silent "Ah", and she brushed some hair out of her face. She straightened herself up and gave me a hug.

"Thank you for looking out for me as much as you do, Randy. I really do appreciate it."

"Don't think anything of it, Amberlea. I know you'd do the same for me." I hugged her tighter. It took everything inside of me to tear away from her and go into the house, but I managed to do it, telling her to have a goodnight and sweet dreams. My thoughts kept going back to John; what was his deal with her?

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

The guys are acting so weird lately, and I just don't know what to make of it.

Randy's typically moody, but lately he seems to be opening up to me more than usual. I think after his fistfight with Bill, he decided to just keep a closer eye on me as a result. As much as I appreciate it, I wish he and John would both understand that I'm content with the life that I have. I'm not lonely right now; I have two of the greatest friends in the world, millions of fans who admire me, a wonderful father and a nice townhouse. At the moment, I couldn't be more happy with the way things are going. Why complicate it with a boyfriend?

I parked my motorcycle and walked into the house, happy to be home, but feeling like the tension between John and Randy hadn't been resolved. If anything, something inside of me told me that things were just going to get worse.

There was a message on my answering machine. Stephanie McMahon. I have a photo-shoot coming up soon. I hit stop; I barely heard any of the message anyway. A shower never looked so good, and neither did my bed.

It was nice to finally get Randy on the motorcycle, he and I seem to have a really special bond with that. He's such a student of the game, such a smart guy. So is John, but it seems like when it really boils down to it, Randy and I have more in common.

The shower was amazing, but it's hard to get excited about anything when I get the feeling that John and Randy are going to come to blows sooner rather than later. And the worst part of it all is that it's probably all my fault why the two of them are so upset with each other at the moment. I wish there was a way to make it better.


	21. Chapter 21

**_Author's Note: So very sorry. I would have had this updated like two weeks ago, but I couldn't access my stories. Thankfully, finally got that fixed. _**

**Chapter Twenty-One**

_**Randy Orton**_

"You good to go, Shane-O?"

Shane McMahon was jumping from foot to foot in the weight room. _Unforgiven _was just about to start; I could hear Sevendust's "Enemy" blaring through the arena. I had a match coming up; I was taking on Shawn Michaels to cement my newfound "Legend Killer" status. My new persona was that of a smug ladies man who takes no prisoners in the ring. I have to be arrogant, make people believe that I'm a real dickhead.

Shane quit bouncing. "Yeah. I'm good to go. Glen and I are ready to tear the motherfucker down." We slapped hands. "How have things been since your little brawl with Goldberg?"

"Fine. Amberlea is just horrified with herself, though. She thinks this is all her fault." Shane shrugged.

"I guess all you can do is just keep doing what you're doing. She seems happy enough. Anyway, I got to go talk to Glen. Good luck out there, all right?"

"You, too, man. Keep the crazy shit to a minimum." Shane smirked, didn't say anything more and disappeared down the hallway. I felt a slap on my back from the other side and turned to see Shawn Michaels standing behind me.

"Hey. You ready to go?"

"Yeah. Totally, Shawn. Totally." He grinned.

"That's good. I have no doubt you can hang with the best; that's why I'm excited for this match." Since coming back from his hiatus last summer, Shawn has been on a roll that has almost rivalled his first WWE run before his back injury sidelined him. I'm pretty honoured to be working with him; after all, working with the best is going to make me the best.

I still feel like nothing more than glorified backup in Evolution…well, glorified might be a very, very loose term, especially now that Big Dave's back from his injury. I still remain confident that everybody's got enough confidence in me to pull the trigger and push me into the upper mid-card and the main event. It seems like Hunter sees something in me; he has to, otherwise he wouldn't have hand-picked me to be in Evolution. Dave, either.

Amberlea's at home tonight; she fucked up her wrist during a match with Lisa Marie. She's not expected to miss any time, but Vince told her they're focusing more on the return of Lita right now and her new alliance with Trish Stratus, so Amberlea could sit home and recuperate and get her wrist better. I'm supposed to give her a call after the show tonight and let her know how everybody reacted to the match.

Tonight, Hunter, Dave, Ric and I are off to party. There's going to be women, champagne, and food galore. We're going to be VIPs, uphold the Evolution image. They like to pick on me, telling me I'm light years ahead of Dave in terms of business, and just a moody bastard who doesn't know how to have fun. I've suggested inviting Amberlea to come out with us, but I think Hunter's made it clear that she'd be a cramp on our style, which sucks. Outside of Stephanie and Trish Stratus, I'm not really sure he holds any other Divas in high regard, which is a shame. Sometimes, the guy can be something of a dick.

Nora passed me; her and Gail Kim have Trish and a returning Lita. "Break a leg out there, Orton…not literally." I stuck my tongue out at her and she snickered, giving me a pat on the shoulder in passing. I could hear the match past the curtain finishing up. Time to put up or shut up.

_**John Cena**_

Tonight is huge; Michael Hayes just called and told me they're planning to turn me face pretty quick. More than likely in time for the _Survivor Series_ pay-per-view. It's been hard to deny it lately; the fans have been getting more and more behind me; my rhymes more and more have been finding some kind of entertainment value with fans. Love me or hate me, they seem to enjoy what I'm saying.

Things are going good on _SmackDown_. I'm set to go into another feud with Kurt Angle, a living legend in professional wrestling. The guy is just a machine, and he makes me want to be a better performer. Outside of the ring, the guy is just incredibly humble. His wife Karen is getting ready to have their first child, and he couldn't be more excited about it, showing us ultrasound pictures and nursery photos. One of these days, that's going to be me, but right now I couldn't be happier for Kurt. They have a few names picked out, but nothing set in stone just yet.

Brock Lesnar, if the word is correct, might be doing a cross-promotional thing for _WrestleMania_, but it's not set in stone yet. Vince is mulling it over, but there's no word on what's going to be done with me yet. Fingers crossed that I get to win the _Royal Rumble_ in January. No word on if Amberlea is going to be used, either. I don't know what's wrong, but Vince seems to have put her on the backburner recently. If Amberlea sees it that way, she's certainly not showing it.

I'm at home tonight, watching the show with my dad and a few friends. I'm getting set to move to Florida pretty soon. Amberlea isn't too happy about me moving further away, but we'll still see each other quite a bit. After all, it's not like we aren't working for the same company or anything.

Tonight is something of a going away party for me, since I'll be moving to Tampa within the next week. It'll be a good change of pace. I bought a nice house down there, up on a steep hilltop that I can run every morning. Mom's pretty sad I'm leaving the state, but everybody else is pretty stoked about it. Anyways, it's not like I can't bring Mom down to come and visit. She'd love Florida. I think Lea would, too, but in all honesty, I'm not allowed to start giving her advice. After the Bill Goldberg debacle, she and Randy both told me that my advice days are over. Dear Abby, I am not.

Anyways, I think Randy's got a pretty good stranglehold on Lea in St. Louis. I don't think he'd let her leave. I think he's getting more and more possessive of her, at least that's my general observation. There's something going on with him; maybe that whole Evolution thing is starting to rot out his brain. Starting to get a big ego, thinking he could have anybody he wants. I doubt Lea's interested; I don't think she's into the moody, quiet, arrogant asshole type that Randy seems to be turning into.

Dad handed me a beer. "That Shane McMahon's a crazy little bugger, isn't he?"

"You have no idea," I replied.

"Well, hopefully he's okay after that bump he took."

"He's fine. He's jumped from higher, fallen from higher…whatever." I popped the beer cap and took a sip. So far it's been a pretty decent pay-per-view. Next month, it would be Randy who got to stay home and it would be my turn to be on _No Mercy_.

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

"Amberlea!"

"Who is this?"

"It's Randy…Give me one second…There. Can you hear me now?"

"Yeah. Much better. Where are you?"

"Some strip club. Ric picked it. Evolution party tonight, but I wanted to give you a call before you went to bed. Did you see _Unforgiven _tonight?"

"Of course I did. Has anybody got an update on Shane? He's not seriously injured, is he? It looks like he hit the back of his neck on the way down."

"He's fine. A little bit of pain, but nothing a few aspirins and some ice won't cure. How was my match?"

"It was good. You really can hang with the best of them. Hunter and the guys must be really proud of you, too."

"Ric is. If Hunter is, he's not saying a word. Then again, he is pretty busy right now. Him and Stephanie are getting married next month." I heard him sigh on the other end of the phone. "How's your wrist?"

"It'll be all right. It's my mind that seems a little troubled."

"You're talking about John moving."

"I guess there goes the once a week dinners. I really came to rely on that for sanity."

"Why can't just you and I do it? I know it's not the same, but I really enjoy the routine…and obviously you do, too." I smiled.

"I appreciate that, Randy. I guess I can take you up on that. We can critique each other's matches and stuff."

"Don't let John's move get to you too much, Amberlea. He's got his reasons for what he's doing, and it's the right thing for him right now. It doesn't mean that he can't come back up this way or that he can't stop in for a visit."

"I know…it just sucks."

"Don't let it get you down too much. When did John say he's moving?"

"Next weekend."

"So we have one more dinner date before he goes."

"That's if he's not too busy."

"He's never been too busy for it before. You just need to stop panicking, Amberlea. Anyways, I hate to do this, but Dave's standing right here; I guess Ric wants me back inside. I'll catch you later, okay?"

"Okay. Have fun tonight, Randy. Don't get into too much trouble."

"It's not me you have to worry about; it's Ric." We laughed, said our goodbyes and hung up. Resting my head against the couch, I just watched TV until I fell asleep.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

The phone was ringing when I made it home from grocery shopping. Dropping everything quickly, I practically slid across the kitchen floor, reaching the phone before it went to voice mail. "I'm here - I'm here!" I shouted into the phone as I grabbed a countertop to stop myself from sliding any farther.

"Sounds like I caught you at a bad time."

"Randy?"

"Yeah. Sorry…I could call back later."

"No, no, no," I assured him, quickly. "I just got home; that's all. What's up?"

"My house is getting repainted, so I thought I'd come and visit you for a bit. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, sure," I answered. "But where are you going to stay? You're not going back to the house tonight, are you?"

"No. I was thinking of just getting a hotel room for the night or something."

"You'll do no such thing, Randy," I informed him. "You can stay here for the night. I'll get the spare room set up for it."

"Amberlea…"

"Don't argue with me, Randy. You're staying here tonight, and that's that."

"Thanks."

"It'll be great. Why don't we do a movie night. Like a sleepover party. I haven't had one in ages. I'll run out to the video store and get some candy."

"I could do that," he offered. "I'm downtown now. What do you want?"

"Tons of horror movies, tons of candy and tons of pop. No root beer though; root beer is gross. But if you could do that, I would be forever indebted to you, especially since I just got home from the store."

"It's no problem."

"Thanks. I'll pay you back when you get here…"

"Nah."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Don't think anything of it. I'll see you in about a half hour."

"Thanks, Randy. See you then." We said our goodbyes and hung up the phone. The change that's come over Randy and John is incredible; it's like John's regressed into being moody around me, and Randy's become the effervescent, outgoing one. It's so strange.

The phone rang again. "Hello?"

"Lea! What's up?"

"Hey, John. Just got home. What can I do for you? How's the weather down in Florida?"

"Like a dream. How's the ice cold Missouri?"

"It's fine right now…we're only getting to the end of October." I rolled my eyes at his dramatics; it's been the same thing with him over and over since he left for Florida.

"Have you thought about my offer?"

"I have, but John, I've set up a life here. I can't just up and leave whenever I see fit." I bit my bottom lip; is it horrible to wish that he wouldn't call me?

"Bring your dad with you."

"John…"

"Okay, okay. I'll let it go. What's up for your night?"

"Not too much; quiet night in." Why didn't I tell him Randy was coming over? I don't know why, but I didn't. I bit my lower lip a bit harder and ran a hand through my hair. "What about you?"

"Same. Gotta fly out tomorrow for _SmackDown_ stuff."

"How's the album going?"

"Great. When you come down here, I'll show you what I've got." I bit my lip again, grabbing a bag of groceries and beginning to put them away. In the last week, he's gotten more and more aggressive about getting me down to Florida. The truth is, I'm happy where I am, and I finally feel like I'm at home. Good luck getting that through to him.

"I hate to do this, John, but I've got to go. I'll call you tomorrow night when I get in at the hotel, all right?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied, but I could tell he wasn't pleased about it. "Catch ya later, Lea."

"Bye, John. Fly safe." I hung up the phone and cradled it. I just stood alone in my kitchen, wondering if I should just give into John and spare me more harassment. I shook my head; no. I'm home, I've set up a great life and I have good friends and my dad in the area. I couldn't uproot everything; John's just being selfish.

_**John Cena**_

We're rolling hard towards the biggest spectacle of _WrestleMania XX_ and tickets are selling like hotcakes. It's incredible. Nobody's still sure where Vince wants to take the program, but the feeling surrounding everything is just huge. Randy and I are slowly making our way up the card ladder; we're now in the upper-mid-card talent area, just on the cusp of breaking through and main eventing.

Tonight is a quiet night on the new homestead in Florida. I had a date last week with a girl named Ashlynn, but I don't see it working out. She hasn't left me alone since the date, calling and calling, leaving irritated voicemail messages when she can't get in touch with me. Go figure; all the great girls are either taken or disinterested in relationships like Amberlea.

She keeps in touch with me a fair bit; but I know it's not the same to her. I'm not quite sure what she really expects out of me, but I'm happy where I am. For the first time in a long time, I actually feel like I'm home.

I've been trying to get her to come down to Florida; but she won't do it. She cares too much about leaving Randy the odd man out. Man, I swear if I didn't know any better that there was something going on between the two of them, but neither of them are admitting it.

Things are getting better between the three of us; the tension that seemed to show up there for a few months is finally starting to disappear, but I still sense this severe wave of distrust coming from Randy. It's like with each passing day he gets more and more protective of Lea, especially now that I'm gone.

_Batman Returns _is in the DVD player; a bottle of Corona and a bowl of chips are on the end table. Tonight, it's just me, myself and I getting a chance to relax before I have to ship out to the next stop in the morning.

Mom and Dad are wondering if I'm coming back up there for Christmas. I have been thinking about it, but I thought it would be even better if I could get them down here. Maybe get Lea and Charlie to come down this way, too. That is, if she can leave Randy long enough.

I shouldn't let it bother me as much as it does, but it bugs the hell out of me. Sometimes I feel like Randy is trying to push me out as her best friend, for an agenda that I'm not aware of by any stretch of the imagination. And either Lea is seeing it and allowing it to happen, or she's oblivious to how possessive Randy is of her. Either way, it's not healthy, and if I dared to say a thing to her about it, she'd just ream me out harder than she did after the Goldberg debacle. I feel like I always wind up looking bad around her. I wonder how in the hell that always manages to happen.

Florida is great this time of the year; it's a little bit crisp, but it's nowhere near how cold Massachusetts gets. It's nice not having to dig my car out of snow banks. I wonder how Lea's enjoying her winter weather.

That's the beautiful thing about Lea; she's never afraid to stop and smell the roses. It's like everything just enraptures her; the snow, the trees, the sun shining off of a lake. She gets embarrassed by it, citing that she's a sucker for scenery, but it's more than that. It's like she just lets herself get enveloped in the miracle of life. I love that trait about her; I hope she never loses it. And if getting caught up in life and beauty and the scenery around the world, then she's definitely in the right job for it.

She appreciates everything, never takes things for granted. I guess I get a lot of that attitude from her; she's just so in touch with everything.

I pop open my beer and take a big gulp. Nothing's going to get me down tonight; not even Randy Orton.

_**Randy Orton**_

Amberlea is letting me crash here tonight, since I just had my house repainted. I was going to book a hotel, but she told me not to even think about it. She set up the spare bedroom for me, but my feet still dangle over the edge of the damn thing. I guess that's what I get for being so bloody tall.

Tonight is going to be a fun night; we have to head out tomorrow for some house shows over the weekend, but Amberlea and I have decided we're going to stay up late and have a slumber party sleepover. It sounds so fucking girlish, but who am I to argue with my best friend?

I'm in the spare room right now, changing into my pyjamas, while she's out there getting everything ready. We rented all the horror movies that we could find and a mountain of candy and pop. The gym is going to hate me on Saturday, but what the hell - what's life if you can't let go and have fun every now and then?

I came out of the room to find the living room covered in pillows, candy and bottles of pop littering the surfaces. Amberlea was nowhere to be found; I sat down on the floor, leaning back against the couch. I'm assuming that's what she was getting at with all the pillows on the floor. Pulling the pile of movies towards me, I began to rifle through them; _Wishmaster, Urban Legend, _four _Nightmare on Elm Streets_, the last three _Halloweens_ and about six _Friday the 13th_s. There was no way we were going to watch all of them, but Lea insisted that we'll have time next week thanks to the deal she got at the local video store.

Her bedroom door opened and she joined me, dressed in black drawstring sweatpants and a tight baby blue tank top, her hair back in a high ponytail. "Are we going to get any sleep tonight?" I inquired. She snickered.

"Sleep is for wusses," she retorted. "We can sleep on the plane. What are we starting out with?"

"What about _Friday the 13__th_part three?" She nodded, stretching her arm out to me to take the DVD case. When she had it in, she placed the case on the top of the TV and sat down beside me on the floor.

"I am so excited about this," she told me. "It's been so long since I've gotten to just kind of have fun like this. Can you pass me the Twizzlers?" I rifled through the piles of candy and handed her the bag, Once she had ripped it open, she offered me some, and we leaned back against the couch.

"How have you been doing, Amberlea? You seem really stressed lately. Anything you want to talk about?" She sighed. I could tell over the last couple of weeks that something has really been bothering her.

"It's John," she confessed. "He's been trying to talk me into selling this place and heading down to Florida."

"Are you really considering it?" I asked her. There was a huge lump of panic forming in my throat, and in that moment, I hated John for trying to put that kind of pressure on Amberlea. She shook her head.

"Not really. I'm happy here. Dad's here, too. I don't want to ask him to uproot everything again after I finally got him here." She bit into a liquorice stick. "I hate that he's doing this, though. He could have stayed here. But he decided to go to Florida."

"Have you told him that you're feeling like this?"

"I don't think he's hearing me anymore, Randy. It's strange, but…I sense this change over him…and I don't like it." She grabbed a bottle of Mountain Dew off of the table and a glass. "I know I'm sounding crazy…"

"No. No, you're not," I assured her. A huge wave of relief swept over me knowing full well that she sensed these things as well. "It's like he's jealous or something."

"I don't know why…" she shook her head, as if to shake these horrible thoughts from her head. I wasn't about to make things awkward for her, but I have the feeling that I know what his problem with me and Amberlea is, and it has to do completely with how close our friendship is.

It's more than obvious to me that John has feelings for Amberlea that run deeper than their friendship. I think that's why he's always on her about dating; maybe it's his way of trying to push her towards him without having to come right out and do it. Maybe he fears the rejection; who knows? But it's getting more and more obvious to everybody but Amberlea that John's falling head over heels for her.

Unfortunately for John, so am I.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

Ever have the feeling that you're caught in the middle of something that you don't quite understand?

That's how I'm feeling right now, when it comes to things between Randy and John. I get the feeling that Randy knows just what exactly is going on with John, but he's not saying a word about it. Vice versa, I get the feeling that John knows something that Randy's been hiding from me, but I can't put my finger on it. Jealousy could be it, but I think there's something that runs much deeper than that.

Tonight, I'm at a house show, set to tag team with Chris Jericho to take on Maven and Molly Holly. I'm pretty excited; it's always a lot of fun hanging out with Chris. He's one of the more infectious guys on the roster, with a musical knowledge that is just mind-numbing. He and I talk a lot about European metal bands, which he's proficient in.

I ran into Chris at the catering table, where he was sipping on a bottle of water and chewing on a carrot stick that was a sickly pale orange color. "Hey, Chris…you check out that Within Temptation album I told you about?"

"Yeah. Put my ass to sleep," he teased. I snickered.

"Okay, so maybe Dutch symphonic metal is not for everyone," I conceded, grabbing a bottle of water. "You ready for tonight? Who's set to go over?"

"You and I. You haven't checked the card board yet?"

"Traffic was backed up; I haven't even been here ten minutes. I barely squeaked out of getting a fine," I informed him. Chris nodded.

"I heard you weren't the only one with traffic problems. You certainly are the only one who talked her way out of a fine, though. Good on ya, mate." I laughed at his attempt at an Australian accent.

"That one band you showed me though…Good Head…"

"Godhead, Chris. _God. Head_."

"I know. I'm just fucking with you though. I like them. Good band. I went back and dug up some of the older stuff, before they signed with Manson. Really good stuff."

"Your thoughts on their Beatles cover?" He crinkled his face in distaste.

"Everyone just needs to leave the Beatles alone. Period. Done right the first time." I munched on a limp celery stick. "Are you ready for tonight?"

"Very, very excited," I answered. "I love doing house shows - they're so much fun!" I saw Randy and Dave walk past; they were working the main event against the Dudleyz. Randy shot me a wink, as did Dave, who's been on the outs with his wife as of late and has been playing the field backstage.

"You rooming with Mr. Orton?"

"I am."

"What is going on between the two of you?" Chris inquired. I laughed.

"Nothing. We're just really, really great friends."

"Friends with benefits…" My eyes widened.

"Chris!" I laughed it off, but I could tell the rumours had been going on back here for some time now. "No, it's not like that."

"Is he dating someone?"

"Don't know. If he is, he wouldn't say."

"And you?"

"No."

"Don't blame you for being scared off after the Goldberg thing. And there - that's another great example - Randy got his ass in hot water standing up for you. He outright _attacked_ him."

"I know." I remembered back to the chaos. Randy had been fined; I had escaped punishment because I had tried so vehemently to diffuse the situation. But I could tell that Vince and Stephanie were upset with me. Luckily they didn't take it out on me too much; I only had to lose every match for three weeks before things went back to normal.

"And you seriously mean to tell me that there is nothing going on between the two of you?"

"No! Is that really such a bad thing?" Chris shrugged.

"You two just seem together; that's all." He left it at that. I was pretty thankful that he just let it go. Instead, he changed the subject to our upcoming match.

_**John Cena**_

Life's rolling pretty good right about now.

So the house show is going amazingly; Torrie Wilson is acting as the official ring announcer for the night. I've got matches against Chris Benoit tonight, and it looks like a face turn is coming so quickly for me that I can taste it.

I wonder how Lea and crew are doing at the _Raw_ show. She said she was tagging with Chris Jericho tonight, who is by far one of the coolest guys I've ever had the pleasure of working with in the WWE. In my first few months, I got to work with him a lot, and he was right into giving me all the breaks that he could. I'm forever indebted to him for his hours of input and for going out of his way to make me look good.

Halloween is coming up; I'm thinking of going up to St. Louie to visit with Lea; stay a night or two with her before heading out to the next stop. I think she'd like it; I know she misses me.

"Hey, John. Are you ready for tonight?" I turned to see Chris standing behind me.

"Yeah. I'm good to go. How about you?"

"Yeah. I'm always ready for a good match." It was an enormous vote of confidence to know that Chris was happy to work with me on the house show circuit. So far, so good, I haven't managed to hurt anybody.

"It's going to be hard to top Rey Mysterio and Ultimo Dragon, but I think we can rock it out," he informed me. I nodded; the luchadore, catch-as-catch-can style is always hard to follow, but I think Chris and I could do it.

"I heard your friend is teaming with Chris tonight; she's in pretty good hands." I wanted to mention to Chris that she had been doing this her entire life, but I just stayed quiet. Nothing gets you more heat back here than to talk back to a veteran, and Chris Benoit is a veteran in every sense of the word.

"Yeah. Tell me about it."

"I wanted you to try something different tonight when I go for the Crossface the first time," Chris informed me.

"Oh yeah?" He proceeded to show me what he wanted me to do. We practiced it a few times on the floor of my locker room until I was absolutely sure I could do it without fucking it up. Chris is a ring general in every sense of the word, and if you fuck up in the ring, it's your ass. He is a perfectionist, and he expects nothing less than perfection out of you. That's why I'm so shocked that I've been hanging with him as well as I have. He sure stretches me to the limit, though; must be a Canadian thing.

A lot of rumours have been flying back here about Randy and Lea. If there is anything going on between them, though, they sure aren't talking about it. Lea's still making it pretty clear that my presence in her affairs is not welcome. A huge part of me wonders if I should do something before anything does become official between the two of them. What would she see in a guy like Randy anyways, a moody guy who is probably hanging out with her just to get in her low-rise jeans? What do they really have in common? I've never even had the thought that they could possibly be on the same wave as each other. And here we are, with everybody backstage here thinking that they're at least fucking around. It's infuriating.

_**Randy Orton**_

"Really? Nothing's going on with Lea?"

"No. I have no clue where the hell these rumours started," I snapped. Tonight it's party night; Dave, me, Amberlea, Chris and Nora are going out for a night on the town. I'm rooming with Amberlea, so it's not a huge stretch that she would come with us.

"I don't know either, but I heard that you guys are doing the fuck buddies thing."

"That is ridiculous," I informed him.

"You sound disappointed."

"Dave, you're incorrigible."

"It's not a bad thing to be attracted to her; I mean, Christ, the girl has the body of a goddess." I nodded; it was hard to disagree with that assessment. The first time I saw her in a bikini I was fucking speechless. "She shares the same musical tastes as you; she's not judgmental of your moody ass. Which reminds me, you always seem to be in a great mood when she's around."

"It's hard to be in a bad mood; she's always so fucking cheerful." I studied my reflection in the mirror; black slacks, deep red button-down shirt. Calvin Klein Obsession. I looked good, smelled good, and all I needed now was to go out and have some fun. "Can we drop this, Dave?"

"Sure. Whatever," he replied. "But I sense things, man. And I think everybody else is, too."

"Good for them." There was a knock on the door. It was Nora and Amberlea standing side by side. Nora had dressed down in a dark blue sweater and jeans; while Amberlea looked more club ready; in a tight, sparkling backless black shirt and a black pleated miniskirt with hot pink trimming around the bottom. The shirt was new; never seen it before. It took everything I had not to leave a puddle of drool in the doorway.

"Are you guys ready to go?" Nora inquired. "Chris is waiting in the parking lot."

"Yeah. We're ready." We were heading to this place called the _Cheetah's Lounge_, some place that Ric rants and raves about. I'm not into it, but Dave really wants to go and check it out. Probably pick up a rat to bring back to his hotel room. Thank God I'm rooming with Amberlea and I don't have to worry about that.

When we arrived at the _Lounge_, the party was on in full swing. Nora and Amberlea had beaten us there, thanks in large part to Dave's hair having to be _just right_. Worse than a woman, I swear to God.

Anyway, Amberlea and Nora were sitting at a table, drinks on hand. Chris was sitting between the two Divas, a pitcher of beer in the middle of the table. He looked like a total rock star. I guess it doesn't help that he is one.

We approached. "Sorry we're late," I replied. "Dave's worse than a goddamn woman." Dave offered no apologies or defence for himself as we all sat down. I ordered a whiskey with a soda chaser and Dave ordered his usual girly mix of Malibu and club soda. I could tell Amberlea wanted to snicker when he ordered, but she restrained herself. She ordered another apple martini and mozzarella sticks and potato skins to munch on while we drank.

"Ric said the mozza sticks here are awesome," Dave informed us.

"Yeah, because Ric Flair came here for the mozzarella sticks," Nora replied with a roll of her eyes. So true. She turned her head to the dance floor where there were two enormous cages by the DJ booth. Young women, both brunette, were in there, dancing seductively and swinging back and forth. The waitress returned in minutes with our drinks and our appetizers.

"Here's to tonight," Nora stated, putting her drink in the air.

"Here, here!" we all echoed, clinking glasses together. Amberlea had an enormous smile on her face, her hazel eyes sparkling like topaz.

"I think we should all get on the dance floor," Dave announced. Amberlea slammed her drink down and nodded her head.

"Totally." Dave took Nora by the hand and led her down to the floor. Chris looked at me and nodded towards Amberlea; does he know something? Either way, Amberlea and I went down to the dance floor, where I got to play pass her along to fans who kept cutting in.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

_**John Cena**_

Her eyes widened when she answered the door, dressed up in her Halloween costume. She was supposed to be a vampire, deep, rich red contacts in her eyes and fake fangs on her teeth. She wore a long black wig, parted down the middle, and a tight black mini-dress with a scooped neck that showed off more cleavage than what should have been legal. Thigh high black leather boots, black fingernails and a long black cape topped off her look.

"John!" The excitement in her voice was heart-warming. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd come visit for Halloween."

"This…this is amazing!" she cried, running to hug me. I clutched her tightly, spinning her around and around, putting her down and catching her when she lost her footing in her heels.

"You look hot," I told her. She laughed.

"The beauty of Halloween," she replied. "I couldn't pull this off year-round."

"Not true," I informed her. A deep pink blush started in her breasts, making its way up to her neck. "Where are you going, all dressed up like this?"

"Nowhere," she confessed. "I'm doing a Halloween party tonight. Randy's upstairs helping me get everything ready before people start showing up. Dad's coming out, Trish is in the area doing some promotions, so she's stopping by, and Randy's got a few friends coming, too. It should be fun." She stepped back into her townhouse and I followed her up the stairs. Randy was cutting vegetables; it was obvious he had been over here since the crack of dawn. The house was immaculately decorated; Amberlea had replaced all of the light bulbs with black lights. There was spooky music playing on loop. The kitchen table had been decorated in Halloween mode, with bags of chips sitting unopened in black cat and witch bowls. Jack-O-Lanterns were rested around the house on different surfaces, waiting to be lit. She had gone all out; it was crazy.

Randy was dressed up as a magician; top hat and all. He looked ridiculous; the black top hat is bigger than he is. He gave me a grin as he finished cutting up a cucumber. "Hey, John."

"Randy." Lea looked between Randy and I, but didn't say a word. The doorbell rang downstairs.

"John, can you get that for me?" she asked. I nodded. The sun was setting below the horizon, the sky getting darker and darker. I still needed to get changed into my costume. I heard her heels clacking against the wooden floor of the kitchen before the sound of the chip bags being ripped and poured echoed through the house. I opened the door to find a young girl in front of me, dressed in a devil's costume that left even less to the imagination than Lea's costume, with a bright red wig, horns and a staff.

"I'm at the right place, right?"

"Yeah. Everyone's upstairs," I offered, stepping to the side to let her in. She entered, a smile tugging at her model-like features. "I'm John."

"Sabrina. I'm Randy's cousin."

A wide smile spread across my features. "I work with your cousin."

"I've seen you on TV. You're on _SmackDown_, aren't you?"

"Yes. Yes, I am."

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

Trish arrived in the cloak of darkness, dressed up as Little Red Riding Hood, with a pink mini-dress that was flared out almost like a tutu, her cleavage pushed up to suffocating levels in her dress. She wore white frilled socks, Mary Jane shoes and the trademark red cape. She hugged me tightly when she arrived. "Look at you - who knew you could rock a dress like _that_," she laughed. "How is the party going?"

"Great, great. It's just missing a little bit of Stratus-faction," I said to her. We snickered, heading up the stairs together. Randy met us at the top of the stairs, a concerned expression on his face.

"You guys seen John?"

"I just got here," Trish offered.

"Randy, what's wrong?" I inquired. There was unadulterated rage burning behind his eyes.

"I haven't seen him in a bit, but my cousin Sabrina is missing, too." Trish and I looked at one another; it didn't take a rocket scientist to know what was probably going on. Sabrina was inebriated.

"Maybe it's unrelated," Trish replied, but she was unsure. I could tell. "Maybe Sabrina stepped out back for some fresh air or something." Randy was out the door in seconds. "John better not be doing what I think he's doing," Trish said softly. I nodded.

"I can't see him doing something like that. John knows better."

Randy came back in moments later; his face contorted in a mask of rage. Without a word, he went downstairs, out the front entrance. "This is going to get ugly in a hurry," Trish said to me. I grabbed the first sweater I could find and made my way down the stairs, Trish close behind me. Upstairs, everybody was still having fun, oblivious to what was going on.

When I got outside, John was on the front lawn, his camouflage GI Joe pants falling down over his hips. Inside of John's car, Randy's cousin Sabrina was inebriated, crying, trying to fix her devil costume.

"Randy…" I rushed to him, holding onto his arm. But Randy was long gone; the vacant look in his eyes frightened me beyond belief. John wasn't intimidated though, and, believe it or not, he wasn't drunk. They were screaming obscenities at one another. Trish was staring, wide eyed at what was going down on the front lawn. The music was so loud upstairs that nobody would have heard anything even if they were listening for it.

John was up in a flash, charging towards Randy, but I was in between them, holding my arms out, trying to keep them apart. "Stop!" I cried, but my words were lost on them. John had crossed the line big time. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Trish tending to Sabrina in the car, leading her back into the house before returning to monitor the situation on the lawn.

"Have you no fucking shame?" Randy shouted. "How dare you fucking touch her - she's seventeen!" I wanted to ask Randy why in the hell he would knowingly allow his underage cousin here knowing what was probably going to happen, but that wasn't the issue. John should have known better. The look in his eyes told me that he knew better, but didn't care.

Randy swung first. His fist missed my face by inches, and it missed John by just as much. "Randy!" I said urgently. I could hear Trish running towards me on the lawn as John shoved me aside like a rag doll. I stepped backwards, losing my footing in such big boots and fell backwards.

_**Randy Orton**_

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

I couldn't catch Amberlea as she fell backwards. Trish tried, but she hit the sidewalk hard, her head cracking off of the concrete. Then she lay, unmoving. The fight between John and I ended that instant. "Amberlea!" I called out, rushing over to her. I regretted my actions; how could I have allowed myself to lose my head like that. John approached her, concern in his eyes, even though he had been the one who shoved her like she was nothing.

Trish was on the other side of Amberlea. She turned her angry brown eyes on John. "You need to leave."

"Trish -"

"Go." Defeated, with a sigh, John trudged to his car, climbing in and leaving. Amberlea was stirring on the sidewalk.

"God, I am so fucking stupid!" I shouted into the night. "Fuck!"

"Not now, Randy. What you're going to do is you're going to help me get her into her room, call off the rest of the party, and go home. I'll stay with her tonight and make sure she gets up." She was moaning on the sidewalk, her head moving side to side.

Knowing better than to argue with Trish, I helped a half-conscious Amberlea to her feet, taking her up the stairs. We inspected her for wounds; thankfully, aside from some scrapes and bruises, she was fine. Trish and I settled her into bed and I went and disarmed the party before doing what I was told and left.

The entire night replayed in my head. Me finding him and Sabrina fooling around in the car, me ripping his car door open and pulling him out, throwing him down on the driveway. Amberlea and Trish had made it out so quick; they probably knew what the hell was going on. God, I am so stupid!

Amberlea never should have gotten in the middle of us. I never should have thought that I could swing, hit John and miss her. And John should have never laid his hands on her. When she fell, it was like slow motion; I could see her falling, but I couldn't reach her in time. I had a dark feeling those shoes weren't any good, but she looked so amazing in them. Who was I to argue with her wearing them?

Now, here I am, driving home, my heart breaking into a million pieces, my stomach in my ankles, worried about Amberlea. What if she never woke up? Trish is livid; I can't blame her. She was here for a night of fun, and I spoiled it.

Is Amberlea ever going to talk to me again when she wakes up and remembers what happened? I don't know. God, everything's become so fucking complicated; I just can't handle it.

What to do, what to do. I know that I owe Amberlea the biggest fucking apology tomorrow. That is, if Trish is going to let me near her. Charlie was shooting daggers at me once I got inside, and he disappeared into her bedroom to check up on his daughter, his only child. I've never felt like such a total heel in my entire life.


	25. Chapter 25

_**Chapter Twenty-Five**_

_**John Cena**_

I was at Lea's at the crack of dawn to see how she was doing. To say I got any sleep the night before would have been total bullshit. I know I looked rough; I didn't even bother to shave before I drove to her beautiful townhouse. It was difficult; I was surprised I had even found a hotel that would take me in without a reservation; it took a while, but I did it.

Amberlea opened the door, in her pyjamas, a big, baby blue terry cloth robe over her small frame. It was clear she had barely slept the night before as well. Her eyes were squinted as though she had an enormous headache. I wouldn't have been surprised if she had a concussion. "What do you want?"

"Can I come in?"

"John, I really don't know if that's a great idea…"

"Randy's here, isn't he?"

"Not that it's any of your business, John, but no. It's just me, Trish and Dad."

"I bet they're all pretty sore with me."

"That's an understatement."

"Lea, I'm so sorry…I wasn't thinking…"

"John, you were out of line last night."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, John. How did you think Randy was going to act when you were making out in a car with his underage cousin? I don't know what's going on with you guys, but I don't like it." Her eyes were shining with tears that were threatening to spill over. "I wish things were the way they used to be, John, but I know that's never going to happen."

"Lea…"

"Stop. I see it. You guys think I don't see it, but I see it. It's like this little game of one ups-man-ship between you and Randy. And I'm caught in the middle…I can't keep trying to hold it together. I can't…" I moved towards her to hug her, but she stepped back. "No. John, you egged Randy on last night. You knew who she was, you just didn't care."

"Lea…please don't be like this…please keep this between Randy and I…"

"I can't. We're all a unit, John. Everything that affects the two of you affects me. Maybe the problem is that the two of you are so damn selfish that you just don't see what affect it has on me." I felt myself becoming defensive by her words.

"So you're taking his side?"

"I'm taking my side, John." She hung her head, shaking it, wincing at the pain that still obviously coursed through her. "I'm watching my family fall apart, and I can't stop it. And I don't want to stop it anymore."

"Fine, Lea. I see where I stand," I fired back at her, my tone indignant. Her face crumpled. "Lose my number." I turned and walked towards the car, hoping that she would stop me, beg me for forgiveness, anything. But she didn't. She closed the door. I could hear her sobs ringing in my ears as I started the car and left.

_**Randy Orton**_

I didn't sleep a wink last night.

Everything kept replaying. It didn't matter that what John did was worse, I still felt lower than pond scum for even trying to get a clear shot around her. It's a clear-cut case of my stupid ass not thinking, but that's no excuse. I'd crawl across an acre of broken glass to make it up to her.

The entire night I stayed up, watching old horror movies from the fifties that she had lent me; _House on Haunted Hill, Plan 9 From Outer Space_. I couldn't sleep; I didn't deserve to sleep knowing full well that Amberlea was going to have to be awakened every so often because of what happened to her.

John didn't bother to call and apologize, and Sabrina is infuriated with me. I guess she has a crush on John or something. It was bad enough my aunt and uncle let her out dressed as provocatively as she was, but she had gotten drunk and had almost been taken advantage of. I spent the entire night with my blood boiling hot under my skin. God damn him!

The phone rang while I was making myself some coffee to get through the day. "Yeah?" I cradled it between my ear and shoulder as I stirred in some cream.

"Randy; thank God I got a hold of you."

"Trish?" I sipped my coffee. "What's going on? Is Amberlea okay?"

"No…not really. John showed up here at dawn. It got ugly really fast."

"Fuck sakes," I murmured, sitting down at the kitchen table. "What happened?"

"I don't know. I can get her to talk about it, but she's been crying so hard I can't understand a thing that she said. I think he cut ties with her, Randy; I think that's what I've been able to decipher from her. Randy…I've never seen her so upset."

"What?" I rolled my eyes at John's dramatic behaviour. "Why on Earth would he do that? His issues are with me?"

"I think he tried to make her choose sides. Randy, I've never seen her like this; she's in bad shape, and I have to catch a flight in an hour."

"I'm going to stop by in a little bit, so maybe she'll talk to me," I replied. "How's her head?"

"Sore, but she's managing. There doesn't seem to be any concussion, but she cracked it good. It's a bit tender. I don't think she slept last night; she feels like everything is her fault."

"I didn't sleep either," I offered. "It's hard to when you feel like the second coming of Hitler." Trish sighed. "I promise I'll give her a visit. See if you can talk to John, Trish. Don't let him do this to her. She's too good for that."

"I don't know how well I can get through to him," she confessed, "But I'll do what I can. How is your cousin doing this morning?"

"She is absolutely infuriated with me. I think she sees me as being a busybody." "She'll come around. One of these days, she'll realize that you meant well."

"I hope so. Today she wants nothing to do with me, and it's sure making me feel worse than I thought humanly possible."

"Don't let it get to you; I would have reacted the same way. Just take a deep breath. I need you calm when you come and see Amberlea later on."

"Where is she?"

"She's laying down in her room. Watching old videos of the three of you guys from back in the day and crying. It's the most heartbreaking thing I've ever seen."

"It's the most heartbreaking thing I've ever heard," I echoed.

"Please be gentle with her today, Randy. I know I don't have to tell you this, but she is in such bad shape right now. I'm worried about her."

"Me, too," I echoed absently, looking at a photo of the three of us on the wall. "Me, too."

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

I ventured down the stairs at the second ring of my doorbell. Trish had to fly back to Toronto, I sent Dad home. Readjusting the sash on my bathrobe, I opened the door to find Randy standing on the other side, dressed in a tight black T-shirt and jeans, a bouquet of red roses in his hand.

"Randy…?" He thrust the roses in my hand.

"Amberlea, I am so, so, so, so, so, sorry about what happened last night. I have been worried sick about you. Are you okay?"

"Randy…" I stared down at the flowers. "Flowers…?"

"I wanted you to know how seriously sorry I am," he replied. "Can I come in?"

I was reluctant, but I nodded, stepping to the side and letting him walk in. He slid his shoes off and hugged me tightly. "I am so sorry, Amberlea. Can you ever forgive me?"

"You and I need to have a serious talk," I sniffed. The tears were burning behind my eyes again. He nodded, understanding, and we went upstairs. "Can I make you a hot chocolate?"

"I would love one. Are you going to have one?"

"Yeah, but I don't think the world makes enough whipped cream in the world for me," I replied. That familiar elfish grin crossed his features. I opened the fridge and pulled out an enormous bag of homemade chocolate covered almonds. I put them down on the island counter.

When the hot chocolate was ready, I sat down with Randy and told him all about John's visit this morning. Randy listened intently, never uttering a word of judgment until I was finished.

"That's not right, Amberlea. You have every right in the world to be mad at him. You have every right in the world to be mad at me."

"I can't be mad at you…I would have reacted the same way if that was a member of my family. Believe me, I'm just thankful that you restrained yourself as much as you did." She sighed. "I'm scared of what's happening to us, Randy. With each day that passes, I can feel the three of us fracture more and more."

"I know. I don't like it."

"What is going on? Why does it have to be this way?" I asked him.

"I don't know," he answered. "I can't pinpoint when things started getting messed up, but it started innocently enough…I could tell he was irritated with things I would say, or if I would spend too much time with you. Amberlea, I think John's in love with you."

I scoffed. "Get out of here. John is like my brother."

"I don't think he sees you that way anymore. It's so obvious; the way he treats me for being around you; the way he dotes on you, the way he's trying to get you to move down there to be with him. I can't figure out why he hasn't moved in on you yet."

"You make me sound like I'm enemy territory just waiting to be invaded," I replied dryly. Randy's revelation actually surprised me. But it explained a lot about John's change in attitude. The fact that he was in a car with Sabrina Orton didn't make all that much sense, outside of him just wanting to hurt Randy. "Wait…but why would John be so concerned about me dating someone if he wants me for himself?"

"Maybe he was hoping you'd ask him out; I don't know," Randy confessed. "I've wondered about that. But I think that's what the problem is."

"Well, if that's true, he has a funny way of showing me how much he cares." The tears burned behind my eyes again as I remembered the cold look in his eyes. I bit my lower lip. Knowing better than to keep things locked up, I stared into Randy's slate eyes. "Do you feel that way about me?"

He hung his head, the impish grin never leaving his face. When he looked up at me again, there was something different in his eyes. "If you have to know, Amberlea, the answer is yes. Any man would be crazy not to be attracted to you." I felt a blush sweep through me. Then the thick, awkward silence followed.

"So…what do you propose we do about this, Randy?"

"I don't know. But I'm not expecting anything, and I'll never go out of my way to make you feel uncomfortable. You're in rough shape right now; take your time, think things through, recover." He put his hand over mine. "But you need to know that if you need me for anything, I'm here. And I always will be."

That's when the tears began to fall.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

_**John Cena**_

I felt like a total pussy having to put my tail between my legs and apologize to Lea, who seemed to nod numbly at what I said. I had pierced her right in the heart, and she was still devastated by my behaviour, I could tell. It would take me a long, long time to be in her good graces again, but I guarantee I will be.

_Survivor Series_ is coming up in a week and Vince is turning me face by having me take a beat down from Team Lesnar. Everything is coming up roses right now, with the exception of the mess of things with Lea and Randy Orton.

Randy won't talk to me. Like I give a fuck. Lea thinks I owe him an apology; she could wait for the world to explode before that would happen. I can tell she looks at me differently because of what happened with Sabrina Orton. Again, like I care. I'm a guy; every now and then I need to handle my business, and if she won't do that for me, then sometimes I need to go where the action is.

Trish Stratus shoots me the dirtiest looks when I see her. The bitch. She needs to just stay out of the situation, but I know she's in Lea's ear, trash talking me, cutting me down. She chewed me out something fierce after I had tried to draw a hard line with Lea. Whether or not Lea listens to what Trish says is the real issue. She keeps her distance with me now; she says I've changed. She doesn't like it. But she will. I promise. She'll see me as the best thing that's ever happened sooner or later. Preferably sooner.

Dawn Marie is hanging around me again, but I'm past her. I don't think she likes it, but I got burned hard the last time I even tried giving her the time of day. Vince commented that I have a new swagger to my step back here, and I do. I can feel my time coming, and it's pumping me up. I can feel everything getting better and better for me, and I'm getting very excited about that. All I have left now is to get Lea by my side, and away from Mr. Third Generation Superstar.

I have a plan for _Survivor Series_ when we're all going to be together. I've already planned a party night after the pay-per-view that I locked Lea down for. Randy will be busy with Evolution stuff anyways; so for the night Lea's going to be all mine. And I swear it's going to be a night that she will never forget.

Tonight is the night I'm taking the beating. Brock is a behemoth of a man, six-four, three hundred pounds, and believe it or not, the smallest guy on his _Survivor Series_ team. From the looks of things, they're going to put me on Team Angle, the opposition. I'm excited; the breaks can only get bigger and better from here.

_**Randy Orton**_

I'm on Team Bischoff heading into _Survivor Series._ I'm excited; it's always nice to know that the company is starting to show more and more faith in me as a performer. Shawn Michaels was a huge help with that when I faced him back in September.

Amberlea has been stand-offish with me the last few weeks since I told her my feelings like a total idiot. I probably shouldn't have done that, but the lies have been destructing us all. But I hate the way she looks at me now, like she expects me to break boundary lines or something whenever I'm around her. Not that I'm not tempted or anything, but I would never do anything to jeopardize things between her and I.

Lying has fucked things up between the three of us, and Amberlea's right - we can't lie to each other anymore. Any of us. All that's really left is for me to make things clear with John where I stand…but with the different brands, and the fact that he seems to hate my guts more and more with each passing day, I think it might be a little bit difficult.

Sabrina is finally talking to me again, after I had to have a talk with her parents. Man, did that make me feel like the world's biggest tool, but I'd hate to think about what could have possibly happened. Now she's just mad at her parents, but begrudgingly accepting that we do know what's up when it comes to the guys. I never thought John would spit on boundaries like that, but nothing this guy is doing surprises me anymore. It's mind-boggling how much he's changed in the last little while.

He made up with Amberlea, which is important. She did nothing wrong, but I know she's been pulled back and forth between the two of us too much. It's not fair to her. She deserves so much better than that because she holds us in such high regard.

"You all right?" Hunter, Dave and Ric were behind me. I jumped, startled. "Jesus - don't have a coronary," Hunter replied, brown eyes wide.

"I'm fine…just thinking."

"Situation with Amber getting worse?" Hunter asked. He was one of the rare ones back here that addressed her by the first half of her name instead of the last. It's weird.

"Not really…she is avoiding me like the plague, though," I confessed. "I probably shouldn't have been as open with her as I was about things." Ric shook his head.

"Never second guess…like you said, the tension was getting to be too much. I bet you feel an enormous weight off of your shoulders." I nodded; Ric was right.

"Has she said anything about it?" Dave asked. I shook my head.

"She's got a lot on her plate right now with John. It's like he enjoys putting a wedge between her and I…He broke her heart, and he hurt her. I can't even believe that she's forgiving him."

"They go back a few years, though, Randy," Hunter reminded me, as if I didn't know. "It's hard when the friendship reaches so far across. She wants to save it, preserve it. You can't fault her for it; she would do the same if that was you acting like a jackass." I nodded; Hunter couldn't have been more right about that. I've never thought for a second about what kind of strain this tension between John and I have put her under.

"You guys really know how to make me feel like a dick," I informed them hotly. Hunter, Dave and Ric laughed at me.

"It's not about making you feel like a dick," Ric replied.

"Ric's right about that," Hunter echoed. "But it is about making you see why Amber does the things that she's doing." I nodded, hanging my head.

"Give Lea her space," Dave replied. "Let her think things through; she's more than likely very confused right now between the two of you. She loves you both, anybody can see that. But things are progressing rapidly, and she needs to know what's going on in her head before she makes any kind of decision."

"You're right, Dave." Who knew a womanizer would have such wisdom? "I hate that you're right, but damn it, you're right."

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

"Are you going to be all right, Lea?"

House show night, and I'm sitting in the Divas locker room between Lisa Marie, Trish, Stacy and Amy. Our matches are done for the night, and now we're all showered, cleaned up and sitting around talking about the latest developments in my suddenly complicated life.

"I don't know. This entire situation is so messed up," I confessed. "I mean, I had sneaking suspicions about John, but Randy…Randy came out of nowhere."

"Really?" Amy asked. "It's been going around here that you two have been seeing each other…you know, like a friends with benefits thing."

"No. That's not the case."

"What about with John?"

"No!" I couldn't believe this. "I haven't slept with anyone!" The room went quiet.

"Do you mean…?"

"You're a virgin?" Stacy finished. I blushed; no need to answer, they knew. The room went up in hoots and shouts. I put my head in my hands; way to not make things embarrassing.

"Don't worry about it; Nora is, too," Lisa Marie replied. "You just waiting for marriage?"

"No…just waiting for the right guy," I confessed. "It's nothing as complex as marriage or anything, but I'd like to at least be in a long-term, loving relationship." The blush was burning. "Look, it's just…I dedicated my whole life to getting here. I never _made_ time to do anything!"

"But you never date," Amy replied. "And Bill does _not_ count."

"Look, can we get back to the subject at hand…what do I do between the two of them? It's clear our bond is fucked permanently now." I shook my head. "If Randy's right and John is attracted to me, but Randy is too, what in the hell am I going to do? No matter what I do, one or both is going to be alienated in the end." I put my head back into my hands. "I can't do this…I can't do this…"

"You can, and you may have to," Trish replied. "Let's talk about the two of them, though."

"Who do we start with?" Lisa Marie asked.

"Let's start with John," Stacy replied, tossing a stand of blonde hair over her shoulder. "How do you envision John?"

"How I envision him is way different than what he is now," I replied. I thought about what happened with Randy's cousin. Trish had told the other Divas, who had been absolutely floored by John's behaviour.

"True enough," Lisa Marie answered. "Like with Randy's cousin. I can't believe that."

"If he's so attracted to you, why was he trying to fuck Randy's cousin?" Amy asked. I shrugged.

"Maybe to make Lea jealous and piss Randy off," Trish replied. "I don't think he banked on Randy noticing almost right away that they were both missing. He was his cousin's watchdog for the night…he did his job."

"I don't know what was going through his head, but I know that it got ugly in a hurry," I replied. My thoughts went back to the attempted fight on the front lawn, where I got shoved aside like a rag doll. That had sure stopped things in a hurry.

Then I thought about John the next morning. The rage in his eyes, the aura of contempt he took on. It wasn't the John I know and love, there was something so much harsher there…much more sinister…it still scares me.

"What about Randy?"

"Randy's been the best friend I could ever ask for," I replied. "He's helped me through so much. He's given up countless hours at home to spend time with me and watch movies and listen to my stressed, ranting ass. I'm indebted to him for all the wonderful things he's done for me."

"I do notice Randy is a completely different person when you're around," Stacy replied. "He goes from angry and moody to being just so happy and outgoing. It's strange. But he's only like that with you."

"I notice that, too. Mind you, I don't really know how he is around the guys in Evolution," I answered. "Don't get me wrong - he was really moody with me in the beginning. I thought he hated my guts." Leaning back against my steel folding chair, I sighed. "I don't know what to do, guys…this has gotten so complicated so quickly…"


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

The Monday after _Survivor Series_ I woke up in pain. It started from my groin and shot into my lower abdomen. My legs felt like rubber; I felt like I couldn't move. Black tinged the edge of my vision; I had the worst case of cotton-mouth, my lips felt cracked and dry.

Sunlight was pouring into my hotel room in thin slits, piercing through the blinds. The clothing I wore the night before was strewn over the floor. When I pulled back the covers, not only did I confirm that I was naked, but there was blood on the sheets. I felt nauseous; I had a sneaking suspicion that I know what happened last night.

I sat up slowly, but surely. There was a black T-shirt slung over a chair that I didn't recognize. Every muscle in my body felt worked to the limit; I wanted to throw up. Pulling my bathrobe towards me from the foot of the bed, I slid it on and stood slowly, making my way towards the chair. I unravelled the inside-out shirt and found it to be just a black WWE T-shirt. Who had been wearing this last night? I wished I could remember what happened after the nightclub. I didn't even think that I had drank that much.

What had happened? Last I remembered, I was with John, Dawn Marie, Chris and Steve. John and Dawn Marie were dancing…Chris kept the drinks coming. I wish I could remember.

There was a knock on the door. I jumped, startled. Moving to the door, I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized that it was just Randy through the peep-hole. I opened the door. "Hey, Amberlea. Thought I'd come take you to break…" He studied me. "Are you all right?"

"I think so," I told him. "Breakfast sounds great. Come on in. I'll go get changed."

My clothing was still strewn on the floor. I ignored it and went into the bathroom, where some of my clothing was hanging. I closed the door and stared at my reflection; I still looked exhausted. I still felt exhausted, like a zombie.

"What the fuck?" I could hear Randy's voice quietly murmuring, then I could hear some ruffling. "Amberlea!"

When I was dressed, I came out to find him sitting on the bed, on top of the blanket, the WWE T-shirt in his hand. The blood was visible. I felt my stomach drop down to my ankles. "Amberlea…what happened last night?"

I couldn't lie to him. "I don't remember…I don't remember anything, Randy."

"Who's shirt is this?"

"I don't know. I can't remember anybody wearing that shirt last night." He studied my face. He could tell I was telling the truth, I gather. Randy was up in a flash, hands on my face.

"Amberlea, I need to take you to the hospital. You look like you've been drugged." His words sent a huge chill through me.

"What?"

"It's so fucking obvious. Amberlea, let me take you to the hospital to be looked at, all right?"

"Randy, I can't…I don't want anybody to know." The embarrassment and the shame of not remembering anything weighed down on me like a grand piano.

"Nobody has to," he assured me. He thought about another solution for a second. "We'll talk to Dr. Rios. But if you've been drugged like I think you have, we need to make sure that you're all right." I sighed; he was right. He was just trying to protect me. I nodded.

"All right."

"I'm going to call the guys," Randy replied. "I'll see if any of them can keep their ear to the ground and piece together your night for you, all right? We'll get to the bottom of this. I promise." He hugged me tightly as the tears began to fall.

_**John Cena**_

Lea checked out early, without leaving me a word of where she was going to be. We were supposed to go for breakfast this morning before I had to fly out. I have a sneaking suspicion that Randy snatched her up.

Last night Lea had gotten absolutely smashed. I've never seen her that drunk, but I know she's had a lot on her mind. She probably just needed to let loose. I left the party before she did, calling it in so I could sleep in, have breakfast with her and then catch my flight. But there was no answer at her room, and when I went downstairs, they had told me that she checked out early.

Dawn Marie, Rena and Brock joined me for breakfast. Dawn and I were trying to nurse Texas-sized hangovers; Steve doesn't play around. It was heavy stuff all night long. Dawn had started throwing up, so I took her back to her room and held her hair back until she was well enough to crawl into bed. I haven't partied like that, well, ever.

I don't know what happened to Lea last night. I certainly didn't think that she was going to check out early. She's not answering her cell phone either, so I don't really know what more I can do.

Last night's pay-per-view went amazingly. We were the opening match; me, Chris Benoit, Kurt Angle, Hardcore Holly and Bradshaw against Brock, Nathan Jones, A-Train, Big Show and Matt Morgan. Benoit and I were the last two sole survivors, so to speak. It was awesome. Afterwards, I got to just sit back and enjoy the show, enjoy the main event Buried Alive match between Mr. McMahon and the Undertaker. Shane McMahon got discharged from the hospital late last night after suffering a concussion during his match with Kane. He's a tough little fucker, that's for sure.

I sent a text message to Amberlea. Hopefully she'll answer me. A huge part of me thinks that something's wrong if she checked out early and isn't taking any of her calls. I hope nobody upset her last night. My gut tells me that Randy had something to do with what's going on, but like I could prove it. And like she would tell me. Since we had our falling out on her front lawn, Amberlea keeps things with her and the two of us separate. Can't say I blame her.

"Who you texting?" Dawn asked.

"Lea. She was supposed to join us this morning, but front desk said she checked out."

"I totally caught her leaving with Randy," Rena replied. "Looked serious, too. They both looked really, really upset."

"What?"

"Yeah; I noticed that, too," Brock replied. "I don't know what's going on, but I remember that they both looked pretty grim."

"I hope everything's all right," I murmured. "Here's hoping she answers my text. She's not answering her phone." She and Randy left together, looking upset? I wonder what went on last night. Or what Randy's said to her. Either way, something's going down. I can feel it.

_**Randy Orton**_

Dr. Ferdinand Rios had Amberlea in the bedroom in his hotel room, giving her a once over under the clout of complete confidentiality. Hunter, Ric and Dave were sitting with me while she was being examined. "Fuck's sakes," Dave murmured. "This is serious…this is not good."

"I can't imagine how you felt finding that, my brother," Ric replied, slapping me reassuringly on the back. I nodded.

"Imagine how I felt looking at her. I could tell that something was up the second that she opened the door…" I rubbed my temples in frustration. "Guys, I hate to do this, but I really need you to help her here…Keep your ears to the ground and see if anybody is missing a black WWE T-shirt from last night. If anybody was spotted in the halls shirtless, if somebody saw Amberlea go into a room with somebody…"

"You don't have to ask us twice, Randy," Hunter replied. "Whatever you need, just ask us. We'll do it."

"Thank you, guys. I really, really appreciate this, and I know Amberlea does, too."

"Are you going to be all right, Randy?" Dave asked.

"Yeah," I replied. "She's going to need me to be strong now."

Dr. Rios came out of the bedroom, readjusting his glasses. "Hey, Randy. Guys."

"Yes?" I was on my feet in a flash. Hunter and Ric weren't far behind. "What's going on?"

"Well, your suspicions are accurate. We found a decent level of sleep aid in her system."

"Do you know the name of the drug?"

"I do know that it was higher than 140 mg. I can tell you that it also acts as an anti-depressant when the levels are that high, which should have kept her sedated. I do know of one popular sleep aid that does this, because it's non-addictive. It's called amitripilyne and it's a little orange pill."

"Is she in danger?"

"No. She did take a high dosage, but again, it acted as a sedative. The alcohol mixture I don't like, but she is going to be all right. She will be feeling rough for the next day or two, but she'll bounce back from things."

"How long does this pill take to take effect?" I asked.

"Around two hours, give or take. Remember, it's non-addictive, so you don't have to worry about that, Randy." His tone grew grave. "She doesn't remember anything that happened, but I can tell you that she was taken advantage of last night."

"I had my suspicions," I replied. Dr. Rios nodded.

"She can't remember anything. You know that this is a huge ethical breach not reporting it to the police, Randy."

"I understand, sir. Is she going to be all right?"

"Oh yeah. She'll be fine. Just keep an eye on her. Don't let her out of your sight today, and don't allow her to use any machinery."

Hunter slapped my arm. "I'll call Vince." I nodded, thankful that he had such a huge in with the McMahon family as he walked away to make the call that was presumably going to give her some time off.

Amberlea emerged a few minutes later. She still looked exhausted, worse for the wear. Hunter approached her. "Amber, I just got off the phone with Vince and you have the night off. We'll take you to the arena, but you're staying with us tonight, all right?"

She nodded. "All right." I couldn't help it; I hugged her tightly. Even when she was trying to gasp out that she couldn't breathe, I still clutched her tightly. My heart was breaking into a million pieces for her. All I wanted to do was find out who could do this to her and kill them with my bare hands.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

_**Randy Orton**_

Trish Stratus and I were sitting alone at a McDonald's before our house show started. Vince had sent Amberlea home to recoup for a few days before coming back. Hunter had informed him what had happened, but had emphasized on keeping things discreet. Vince told everyone that Amberlea had hurt herself in the ring and he was sending her home to rest whenever he was asked, but he wanted to go to the police. Thankfully, Hunter talked him out of it, informing Vince that Evolution was on the case before any rash judgments could be made.

"I can't believe this," Trish murmured. "Poor Lea."

"Can you call your connections on _SmackDown_, see if you can pick up anything? I normally wouldn't ask, but I have to do this for Lea. I'm sure she didn't want to lose it this way."

"No. I'm sure she didn't either. What did the doctor say?"

"She was drugged with sleep medication called amitripilyne. Thankfully, it's not addictive, but from what I read, you have to have a prescription to take it."

"That's a start. Are you sure this is the drug?"

"He named it as a possibility because it doubles as an anti-depressant as well. I guess they found she was sedated as well as drugged."

"Good grief. I'll help you with anything you need, Randy. Does John know?"

"I gather that he does by now. I don't know if Amberlea's talked to him about it or anything. She's been trying to keep that sort of thing separate from us." I shook my head. "Can't say that I blame her. John and I have been acting like real kids."

"Keep me posted on whatever you find, Randy. She's one of my best friends; don't leave me in the dark."

"I promise you that I won't." I was so thankful that I had enough resources to tap into to investigate this for Amberlea, who was probably sitting at home in the dark, hidden in shame. She had spent the entire _Raw_ that night passed out in the Evolution locker room, sleeping off the medication. Dave had dug up a blanket to cover her with we all took turns standing guard over her while she slept. Afterwards I drove her back to my hotel room and put her down on the hide-a-bed. I've never seen her sleep so much. It was pretty frightening.

"I know that she appreciates you watching her back like this," Trish informed me. "She thinks so highly of you, you know."

"I know. I let her down a fair amount, too," I replied, hanging my head. Trish put her manicured hand on mine.

"You didn't let her down. You couldn't have known this was going to happen, Randy. You're not psychic. But you're here for her now, and that's the big thing that counts. You showed her that she can count on you, and that's so important, because whether she remembers or not, she's been through a very traumatic experience, and it's left her very, very vulnerable."

"I know. I'm afraid of that. Thankfully Charlie's staying with her. I don't want her left alone right now…just in case she remembers."

_**John Cena**_

Vince said that Lea's been injured. That would explain the serious expressions on Randy and Lea's faces when they left the hotel, if what Rena and Brock saw was correct.

Lea and I finally talked. She seemed absent, distant with me. I don't know why, but she just said that she wasn't feeling well. I offered to go and see her, but she turned me down. Said she was just taking the week off and spending some much needed time with her father. So I begrudgingly accepted that and now I get to sit here and worry, knowing that once again Randy Orton knows more about things with her than I do. What a dick; he won't even text me to tell me what's going on. I don't buy Lea's excuse of hurting her back; she seemed to be too detached for that. Something worse happened. I know it.

Hardcore Holly's been strolling around here with an enormous grin on his face, like he knows something that nobody else knows. I don't like it. The guy is never normally happy. He's not the only one though; it's like something's in the air, and all the guys are walking around back here all cheerful, even the ones who are normally miserable sons of bitches.

I heard murmurs that a Diva got drugged at a party after _Survivor Series_. Nora and Amberlea are off, and I have the feeling that something happened to Lea. Good luck getting anybody to tell me though. She sounded so different, though. I don't like how she sounded.

Tonight I'm mouthing off to Vince McMahon and Sable in the ring. Vince is walking around here all fucked up after his match with the Undertaker. Currently, I'm sitting on a trunk in the back of the arena, trying to come up with a freestyle rhyme that will make the fans cheer, offend Sable and make Vince pissed off beyond any reasonable comprehension of the emotion. My push is getting bigger and bigger now; it's only going to be a matter of time before I become a main event star.

Next up is _Armageddon_, which is going to be a _Raw_ pay-per-view. There's buzz going around here that Randy Orton's push is going to start. Like I care. I have never met such a snake in the grass in my entire life. And the worst part is that I thought he was my friend.

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

The silence in the air between my dad and I is really thick. Very awkward. I have the feeling that Randy told him what happened, but Dad's not talking. To be honest, I'm kind of thankful that he isn't going to say anything about it. Today, we're just sitting at home, baked goodies and hot chocolate cluttering the coffee table, and watching old movies from the fifties that Dad had brought over like _Kiss Me Deadly_.

"That Randy Orton's a great guy, you know that, right?" Dad replied. I nodded.

"Trust me, Dad; I know it better than anyone."

"Your mother would be proud of everything you've accomplished, Lea."

"I know, Dad." I played with the charm bracelet on my wrist that I had gotten from John on my last birthday. The last few days I had spent crying. I feel like damaged goods. And I still can't remember anything. Whatever happened to me, it happened while I was out cold.

It took a couple days, but I'm back to normal. Back to jogging, back to being energetic. Randy calls me every night to check in on me like a sweetheart. John phoned, but I just told him I was injured. I don't think he bought it, but I don't care; not everybody needs to know. It's bad enough that the boys in Evolution and probably Vince know, but I know that Randy only told them to see if they could hear anything. Those three are the most powerful guys in the WWE at the moment; they could get their hands on any information that they wanted. I appreciated Randy exhausting all of his resources to help me when I know he doesn't have to.

"How are you holding up, Lea?"

"I'll be fine, Dad. Try not to worry about me."

"You know I do, though."

"Can we just not talk about this? It's a bit awkward for me." Dad nodded and we fell into silence again, watching our movies. My head couldn't stop whirring; my head was going through everyone we saw at the party, which was a good third of the WWE roster. Any one of them could have been the culprit, but who?


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

The Brennan-Orton Christmas was starting to become a tradition here. Bob and Elaine get along really well with Dad, and Becky, Nate, Randy and I sit around and joke about things. It's like we're this huge, blended family. It's wonderful. Dad and Bob have gotten really close, bonding over football and motorcycles.

Elaine made her famous turkey. Randy was dressed in a horrendous Christmas sweater, smiling sheepishly at me when he opened the door. "Merry Christmas, Randy!" I said excitedly. I had an enormous bag full of presents for the entire Orton family. Dad was behind me, dressed in his best biker-Christmas gear, a wide grin on his face. He always loves listening to old road stories with Bob Orton. He gets such a laugh about all the trouble that he and Roddy Piper used to get into.

"Merry Christmas, Amberlea. You look absolutely stunning." I felt a blush crawl up my neck. He shook hands with my father and stepped aside to let us enter the house.

We exchanged presents first. I opened the gift from Bob and Elaine, and it was a photo of Randy and I together that they had blown up and put on a frame. It was engraved with the date, and the event. It was when Randy had won his first Hardcore Championship in Ohio Valley Wrestling. I couldn't help it; a sad smile crossed my face when I remembered how happy we were back then.

I got Bob and Elaine his and hers foot massagers. They loved them. I got Becky a cool pair of heeled boots that she squealed in delight over. I got Nate tickets to a UFC event that was set to come to St. Louis in the coming months. I had been completely stuck for Nate until Randy told me he was thinking of becoming an MMA fighter. Bob and Elaine got my dad a Harley Davidson T-shirt that touched him deeply.

Randy and I stepped outside for some fresh air. The snow was fresh in the backyard, glistening off the trees against the darkening cobalt backdrop of the sky. It truly was breathtaking. "I got you something…I just don't want Nate and Becky ragging on me." I couldn't help but chuckle; it was like this every year with him.

He pulled a small box out of his pocket. I had gotten him a rifle that he had been eyeing to get. A lot of people don't know this about Randy, but he loves guns. Picked up on it when he was in the Marines. Sometimes he shows me them, tells me about them, but damned if I could follow it.

I opened the box. It was a small gold locket. "Randy…"

"Open it."

I opened it. On one side there was a photo of me. The other side was Randy. They were recent photos. "You always get me jewellery," I said, blushing.

"I like getting you nice things." He gave me a hug. "Will you wear it now?"

"Sure." He put the locket on me. "Let's get back in the house. I'm starving for your Mom's turkey." Randy laughed. Together, we went inside. I don't know what it is, but I always feel so incredibly safe with Randy.

_**John Cena**_

Lea's not answering her phone. She's probably at Orton's. Go figure.

She's put her distance with just about everybody, but next month, just after the _Royal Rumble_, I've set it up where I get to go and stay with her for about a week or so. Maybe this will finally be the time where I lay it all out for her, give her the ultimatum; me or Randy.

I know I'm putting her in a bad position, but I need to know that I can trust her. I certainly don't trust Randy. He's a fucking madman. His cousin is still blowing up my phone; not going down that road again, though I've been really tempted just to send his moody ass over the edge a little bit more. The fact that Lea sided with him there just blows my mind. She's a grown woman, I'm a grown man, we can do whatever. It's too bad Randy and Lea can't see it the same way.

Christmas is going great here. I flew the family down here for a huge Christmas dinner. Dan, Steve and Sean are sitting in front of the PlayStation 2, rocking it to the new _Here Comes The Pain_ game that's pretty off the hook. Everybody else is enjoying the typical eggnog and Christmas carol mix that makes Christmas…well, Christmas.

There's not a single inch of snow as far as the eye can see; I love it. No digging my car out of the driveway, no black ice or fishtailing. I get enough of that on the road. I can't believe that Lea even wants to put up with it, but she thinks everything is just so fucking magical. It's almost comical sometimes. Randy seems entranced with it; I find it ridiculous that she sees so much and is touched by so much after repeated viewings. I guess that's what differentiates us. She's a dreamer, always has been, even when we were living together in California.

The _Royal Rumble_ is coming in under a month. I'm set to compete. Hopefully WWE is going to let me win it this year and then steal the show at _WrestleMania_. It would be huge to be able to main event _WrestleMania XX_. From the way things are going, it looks like Randy's set to feud with Mick Foley. That's going to elevate him huge. I still feel like I'm kind of left behind in the dust when compared to him, but I guess anything's easy to accomplish when you have Triple H and Stephanie McMahon in your corner. That, and Daddy's hotline to the McMahon family. I'd think that if he wasn't who he was, he probably would be working some bullshit nine to five job that I had to back in the days before I found my calling. I hate that guy so much, and I hate the problems he's created between Lea and I. She always seems conflicted, and it feels like she's slipping away from me. Hopefully when I go visit her things will be better between us. If things go even better, maybe I can talk her into moving down here to be with me. That would be the greatest thing in the world. And the farther I get her away from Randy Orton, the more likely that our friendship is going to survive.

_**Randy Orton**_

When Amberlea and the family left, I sat back on the couch. Tonight had been a truly beautiful night. I could tell Amberlea was uncomfortable accepting the locket, but I'm glad that she did. There's no agenda here; I love her, but I don't want to push her if she doesn't feel like things are right.

The rifle she got me is in my closet. It's crazy that she paid attention to me talking to her about it; after all, she always looks like I'm talking a foreign language to her when I start talking about my gun collection. I'm amazed it doesn't scare the hell out of her, but she said her dad used to hunt. All I know is that the girl never ceases to amaze me.

Everything seems to have gone cold in the case with her. Which is too bad; it almost seems like we'll never find out who did this to her. It's not right.

The phone rang on my end table. I grabbed it. "Hello?"

"Hey, Randy, it's Trish."

"Trish. Hey - what's up? Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you, too. Was Lea and crew there for dinner tonight?"

"They were. How were your plans?"

"Great. Ron and I had a quiet Christmas with our families. Played some pool. Quiet, low-profile, just how I like it. Anyway, I'm not calling for social reasons."

"No?"

"I got a text from Torrie…I know this was last month, but she was saying that she heard rumours that Hardcore Holly was wearing a black WWE T-shirt just like the one Lea found in her hotel room. Apparently, he lost it."

I bit back the rage in my throat. Less than a month until we would all be together at the _Royal Rumble_. And then there would be hell to pay. "Thanks, Trish."

"No problem, Randy. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you, too."


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter Thirty **

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

John is coming home with me after the _Royal Rumble _to stay for a week or two. I'm pretty excited; it's not often I get to spend much time with him. Of course, he'll have to do his travels, but he'll just be coming back to my house instead. It'll be great; John and I haven't spent a lot of time together in what feels like forever.

Tonight is the night of the _Rumble_, and I couldn't be more excited. Vince has managed to have kept the atmosphere absolutely electric here for _WrestleMania XX_. Tonight, the _Rumble_ is set to be huge, with WWE pulling the trigger and kicking Randy's feud with Mick Foley into high gear. The only problem is that there's no word about what John's plans are going to be for _WrestleMania_. He should be on the card this year; he's too over with the fans to not be.

I'm sitting backstage with the girls tonight. We stopped by a grocery store and bought some party supplies to sit back and have a _Rumble_ party. It's going to be a blast. Amy actually brought a bottle of Baby Duck champagne for the main event. Not that we're supposed to be drinking on the job or anything, but she claims that she ran it by Vince, who was in a good enough mood tonight to allow it.

"So, I heard that John is coming to stay with you after the _Rumble_," Amy informed me, handing me a can of Grape Crush. "Are you sure that's a great idea?"

"It's fine. He's my friend."

"Well, what about Randy?"

"What about him? He understands that John is my friend and he's not going to do anything to jeopardize that. He's been surprisingly good about that."

"Glad to hear that," Trish replied, opening an enormous, warehouse-sized bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. "But I still have this sinking feeling that it's not a very good idea, especially considering what happened the last time the two of them were in the same vicinity."

"Randy's not going to come around for that week or two; he promised," I informed them. "And Randy has always proven to me that his word is gold."

"We'll see," Stacy replied. "I think he'll get too jealous. He'll just have to stop by." Lisa Marie, Nora and Amy all nodded in agreement. I could see it, but I didn't think it would happen.

"I think you're being ridiculous, Stacy," Trish replied. "And anyways, don't panic Lea anymore than she already is. It's bad enough she's worried about blood on the walls between the two of them."

"I'm so jealous," Torrie Wilson pouted, popping a chunk of bright blue Laffy Taffy in her mouth. "You have two of the hottest guys in the company fighting over you."

"Forgive me for having a hard time being flattered by it," I replied dryly, sipping my soda. Lisa Marie put her arm around me and dragged me close to her.

"Have you made a decision yet?"

"I don't know," I confessed. "I love them both. I'm afraid of hurting them both."

"Well, let me state for the record that John staying with you when you're so unsure is a really, really bad idea," Trish replied.

"I know you think it's a bad idea, Trish," I replied.

"Then why are you allowing it?"

"Because he's my friend and he wants to spend some time with me." I was being naïve; I know it. And as confident as I tried to be about things, the girls didn't look as convinced about things as I was.

_**John Cena**_

I felt my knee pop when Big Show threw me over the top rope. Dr. Rios took a look over it and told me that he suspected I tore a ligament. I can still walk on it, though it does hurt, but he set up an MRI for Valentine's Day. Hopefully I won't have to miss any ring time, especially any that would take me past _WrestleMania XX. _

But, at the end of the night, I get to go home with Lea; that's always a great consolation prize. She promised me that Randy wouldn't come around; I trust her word, I don't trust his. But, whatever. Hopefully by the end of these few weeks, my feelings will be out in the open and she'll be more than willing to give me a shot.

"You going to be okay, John?"

I turned to see Lea standing behind me, dressed conservatively in a white turtleneck sweater and dark blue jeans, her dark hair back in a messy bun that was held together with a pencil. I smiled.

"I'll be fine now," I replied. She blushed. "Are you ready to go to the airport?"

"I am, John. How is your knee?"

"It's fine," I reassured her. "It's fine enough to walk on, so if it's a torn ligament, it's not a big tear. I can probably work through it."

"That's a relief. I know you'd be down if you missed out on _WrestleMania_." I nodded; it would be devastating to not make it onto the card two years in a row, especially considering how well I've been doing with my gimmick. Randy's pretty much guaranteed for _WrestleMania_; I just have to play wait and see now and see if the creative team has anything for me.

"Just let me grab my stuff; I'll meet you in the parking lot," I told her. She nodded; disappearing down the hallway. I watched her leave with a smile on my face. In the next few weeks things were going to change, and I can sense that they're going to change for the better.

I went back to my locker room, where the eliminated sat, hooting and hollering at the TV screen. Randy wasn't in here; he usually hangs around in the Evolution locker room. "You heading out?" Billy Kidman asked me. I nodded.

"Yeah. I'll see you guys on Tuesday."

"Go and get her, John!" Matt Hardy hollered from the back of the room. I laughed, pointing at him and smirking.

"Keep you guys posted."

_**Randy Orton**_

Hardcore Holly didn't have time to brace for anything when I slammed him against the wall. "The fuck is wrong with you, Orton?" he shouted. The _Rumble_ was long since over, most of the guys were gone or at least one foot out the door. It was just Hardcore and I in this empty locker room, face to face and nose to nose.

"You're a real lowlife, Holly. You have to drug women to get them to fuck you?"

"You're out of line…"

"No…you're out of line!" I bellowed in his face.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Randy. You're lucky I don't just kick your ass right now."

"Why don't you tell me how your WWE T-shirt wound up in Amberlea Brennan's hotel room?" His eyes widened; I had him.

"What?"

"You fucking heard me. Don't play dumb, Bob! How could you have left such a big thing like that behind?"

"I did not leave it in her hotel room; I've never even been in her hotel room! I've never exchanged more than a dozen words with the woman!" I could see in his eyes he was telling the truth. I let him go.

"How did you lose your shirt, Bob?"

"I was fucking around with Bradshaw in the hallway. We both lost our shirts in the battle. I went back for it a few hours later, but it was gone. We were drunk; hammered, even. I'm telling you, Randy, whoever put the shirt there put it there to set me up!"

I bit my bottom lip. "Can Bradshaw verify this?"

"Yes, he can verify this! He was with me the entire time!" He shook his head. "Randy, I appreciate what you're doing, but you can't run around attacking guys like this."

"Who the fuck could have taken your shirt?" I turned my head, trying to clear my thoughts when I spotted something under the bench.

"Randy…"

"Hold that thought, Bob," I replied. I made my way over to the bench. Bob was close behind me, inquisitive. I reached under and pulled out a pill bottle that was almost empty.

"What's that?"

"Beats me." When I read the label, my heart stopped.

It was amitripilyne.

"It's a sleeping pill," I informed him. "And it's what the doctor said Amberlea may have been drugged with."

"Who is the pill bottle registered to?" I scanned the bottle. My heart sank.

"Fuck!"


	31. Betrayal

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

* * *

Dad, John and I were watching TV when I heard the tires squealing outside. "What in the world is going on out there?" I asked, not really expecting an answer out of Dad or John. I stood and went to the window, pulling back the curtain and peering out the window. It was Randy's gold Hummer careening down the road towards my driveway. My eyes widened; there was a dark feeling in the pit of my stomach telling me that something was very wrong. "It's Randy!" I said, shocked.

"Son of a bitch," John growled. He stood to his feet and made his way down the stairs before I could stop him. He was livid. Dad and I followed close after, the two of us afraid that the situation was going to go from bad to worse in a hurry. Somewhere, John and Randy's friendship had been irreparably fractured. I couldn't play peacekeeper forever. I just wish I knew where things had gone so wrong.

By the time we had made it to the open door, Randy had jumped out of his Hummer. John was moving towards him. Randy didn't acknowledge me, he walked up to John and leveled him with one punch. John stumbled backwards, crashing down to the grass, holding his nose. Randy shook the pain out of his hand, his eyes narrowed into the tiniest slits. I crossed the lawn quickly.

"Randy!" I squealed, approaching him, putting both my hands on his chest to calm him down as best I could. The rage in his eyes was scary; I've never seen him so angry. "What are you doing? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"He knows _exactly _what that was for," Randy told me angrily, his eyes never leaving John. I turned to John.

"For your cousin?" John raged. "Fuck, let it go!"

"No. No...what you did to Amberlea is way worse than anything you tried to pull with my cousin, you piece of shit. I didn't want to believe it, John, but I saw it. All of it. You are a real piece, John."

"Randy...what?" I looked at the house. Dad was still standing in the doorway. Around us, people were starting to come out of their houses. I was so embarrassed. I grabbed Randy by the forearm. "Randy, please calm down. People are starting to stare at us," I pleaded quietly. "Please, Randy. Whatever happened, please..."

"You wouldn't be standing up for him if you knew exactly what he did to you!" he raged, his angry eyes turning to me. I let go of his forearm as if the touch burned my skin. I was so confused.

"Randy, what are you saying?"

"Don't you get it? He's the one who fucking drugged you!"

I turned to John, my eyes wide. I was fully aware that my jaw was hanging open, but I couldn't help it. John was scowling at Randy, huffing and puffing like the Big Bad Wolf. I turned to Randy. "No. No, Randy, you're wrong. You have to be. John would never hurt me."

Randy reached into his pocket and handed me a pill bottle. There was the name of the pill, there was John's name. The bottle was half-empty, and I knew John doesn't take sleep medication. But it was all staring at me.

I looked at John, confused. The look in his eyes told me that what Randy said was very, very true. The look in is eyes told me that he had been caught. In that instant, I felt sick to my stomach. I examined the bottle, then looked at Randy. "No," I whispered. "This can't be true."

But it was. And it was all unfolding on my front lawn.

"You couldn't handle the fact that she may not be interested in you," Randy accused. "Were you too much of a chicken-shit to just come out and tell her how you were feeling? You had to drug her like she was some sort of animal. You're a real monster, John. A monster."

"A monster? A monster?" John shouted, scrambling to his feet. I was too stunned to move or react. I just stood frozen on the front lawn, holding onto the bottle of pills. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. My brain was jumbled. John, the man I had trusted, the one who had let me stay with him when I first got into wrestling... he had drugged me. He had taken advantage of me. I'd been unconscious, and he was okay with that. The bile was threatening to rise. I was afraid that I was going to throw up all over my lawn.

I could remember bits and pieces of that night. I remember John kept me drinking. Within a few hours I told him I was really tired and he offered to take me back to my hotel room. I had no reason to think anything of it. And yet, here it was, glaring me in the face. But the T-shirt...he hadn't been wearing the T-shirt...

"Do you have any idea what this _fucking tease _has put me through for the last _two years_?" John asked darkly, ripping me out of my thoughts. Tears were beginning to burn behind my eyes.

"Tease?" The words stunned me. He turned to me.

"You heard me, Lea. Running around with everything hanging out and stringing Randy and I along with all your flirting...I'm a guy, Lea." I shook my head. A wild moment of clarity hit me that the man before me was not the man I knew. He was nobody I recognized, a far departure from the man who took me under his wing. I was devastated. My body began to shake violently; I couldn't control it. I also couldn't control the tears that began spilling from my eyes.

"You...what happened to you?" I asked softly. I threw the bottle of pills at him. It hit him square in the chest and hit the grass. "I never, ever want to see you again," I sobbed. I ran into the house. Dad was approaching John, but I didn't turn back to look at them.

"Lea..." John called after me. "You don't understand..."

I ran straight to my bedroom, throwing myself on the bed and crying until I couldn't cry anymore.

* * *

_**John Cena**_

* * *

Not long after Lea ran into the house, Charlie went inside and threw my stuff out on the front lawn with all the neighbors watching, effectively ending my much-wanted vacation with Lea. I should have lied, but what good would that have done? Even if Lea refused to believe it, Randy would have pressed the issue until she came around to his side. That's the way he is. I've come to hate the son of a bitch. I used to consider him a brother, but not anymore.

I could see Randy staring out the living room window as I loaded my stuff in the car. He wasn't smiling. He didn't even look smug. I wanted to go inside and bash his face in, but I knew Charlie wouldn't let me past the front door. I couldn't see Lea anywhere. The neighbors were watching me, their faces a mixture of fascination and disgust, but I didn't give a fuck. I shrugged them off, got in the car and drove away, heading back towards the airport.

I should have checked my bags thoroughly and made sure I had everything. In my defense, I didn't realize Mr. Legend Killer had become the second coming of fucking Matlock.

Even if she didn't remember it, she was very much into it. It had been great. I know she'll come around. We shared something. We're close, we always have been. Randy is the third wheel. He'll never get between Lea and I. Not in a million years, no matter how hard he tries. I'll give her a few days and try talking to her again when Randy isn't around.

I wasn't even halfway to the airport when the angry text messages started. Lita called me a rapist. Hardcore Holly wants to kick my ass about the T-shirt thing. Molly Holly called me a monster. What, did Randy take out a full-page ad in the fucking _Times _or something? How many people did he tell? He never ceases to amaze me.

I wanted to drive back to Lea's house and explain things to her, but Captain Purity and her dad would never let me get my side of the story out. They don't know the crippling fear and frustration I've felt around her. I hold steadfast to the belief that she will come around. Our friendship can survive this. It just has to.

* * *

_**Randy Orton**_

* * *

Charlie sighed from his place in the armchair. "I never saw this coming," he murmured. For the past hour, Amberlea has been in her bedroom, sobbing uncontrollably, each wail breaking my heart into smaller pieces. I wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but Charlie told me that it's best if I leave her alone until she's ready to see us.

"I didn't want to believe it, Mr. Brennan," I told him, shaking my head. "If I had never found the pill bottle and started asking questions, I never would have suspected him."

"This is unbelievable."

"My heart is breaking for her right now."

He stood. "I'm going to leave. I think you and Lea need to talk, and it probably has to do with things I don't need to be hearing." I nodded. He approached me and gave me a tap on the arm. "I appreciate you looking after my daughter as much as you do, Randy. You and your family are gold in my books."

"Thanks, sir. That means a lot."

"Call me Charlie." He let himself out of the house, pausing momentarily to sigh in torment at the sounds of his daughter's anguish. Then he was gone.

I sat down in front of her TV. The Chiller channel was showing a _Freddy's Nightmares _marathon. It was hard not to go to her. All I could see in my head was the devastation on her face. I didn't want to inflict this kind of pain on her, and I certainly didn't want to wreck her friendship with John. But she deserved to know.

Night began to fall when I finally heard her bedroom door open. She stood in the arch between the kitchen and the living room, staring at me. Her eyes were puffy and red and they looked lost. It was heartbreaking. Her hair was disheveled. Her arms were crossed over her chest. I turned off the television and shifted in my seat.

"Are you all cried out?" I asked softly.

"I think so," she told me. Slowly, she made her way to the couch and sat down beside me. "I can't get my head around this, Randy. I don't understand."

"I don't, either," I told her.

"Why didn't you tell me last night?"

"I had to be sure. I had to ask around, and everything started falling into place and pointing at him. Trust me, Amberlea, I really didn't want to believe it. I certainly didn't want to tell you either."

"You sure made a dramatic entrance," she informed me. I chuckled.

"I came here thinking I was going to be reasonable. I tried willing myself to be calm…then I saw him. And I swung. And you know what, Amberlea? It felt _great_." She giggled. I pulled her close to me on the couch and hugged her tightly.

"He's right, you know."

"Him? Right about anything? Consider the source, Amberlea."

"He's right, though. I guess I am a tease. It's not the first time it's been said about me. I guess I'm just doing things wrong." I know she was referring to Goldberg; I don't know who in the hell had told her that outside of John.

"You're being ridiculous."

"Am I?"

"Very much so. Trust me, what happened was not your fault, and you should not feel like it is…something's wrong with John now, Amberlea…he's fucked in the head."

"Tell me about it." I wiped a falling tear off of her face with the pad of my thumb. "I'm so sorry…I feel like I've fractured everything, Randy. Like everything I touch just falls apart."

"It's natural to feel like that right now," I assured her. "I'd be concerned if you weren't feeling upset. But you didn't do anything." I sighed, running my hand through her hair. "I didn't want to believe it, Amberlea. I really didn't. That's why I took the extra time. But then people started remembering things and there was just too much against him for it not to be him." I hugged her tightly.

"Thank you for everything, Randy," she whispered in my ear. The tears were beginning to fall again; I could feel them. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"I feel the same way about you," I told her softly, hugging her tighter. She pulled back, wiping the tears away with her fingers. My heart broke for her, but she was holding it together a lot better than I had thought she would.

"Can you stay with me tonight?" She sighed. "That sounds so horrible, but I just…I don't think I want to be alone tonight."

"How about you pack up some stuff, and you come home with me? You could probably use to get out of the house for a little bit." She contemplated my offer, and she nodded, disappearing into her room to grab a few things. Tonight was going to be a good night for Amberlea if it killed me.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

_**John Cena**_

Stuck on a flight back to Florida, keeping my headphones in and my eyes out the window. No way is Randy going to even let me try to explain my side to Lea now.

Lea is something of a tease, though. Making herself emotionally unavailable, emotionally detached, exploiting her curves. Bill Goldberg would agree; that guy is still angry with me that I had talked him into a date with her, only to get cut out of any sort of affection and to get an uppercut to the jaw from Randy Orton for his efforts.

Randy ruins everything. I swear on it. It's like he's her moral compass or some stupid shit. And now he's probably with her, taking advantage of her vulnerable state. Was what I did really that bad? I don't normally do stuff like this, but I wasn't into hurting her. Trust me, I would have much rather her been awake.

Florida is probably another twenty minutes away; then I could land and go home before heading out tomorrow morning. The bridge of my nose still hurts from Randy's punch, but it doesn't feel broken. Probably just a little bruised. He hits surprisingly hard.

I should have known better than to know that this trio would ever be friends forever. Eventually, it was bound to happen that one of us - or both in this case - would fall for Lea. I could see it happening with Randy; I could see it happening with me. But I didn't think for a second that it would splinter us like this.

The text messages from my colleagues stopped; I guess Randy didn't tell everybody. Everyone just needs to mind their own business; this entire situation is between Lea and I. But I should have known better that Randy wouldn't mind his business about anything. We'll see, though. Lea will talk to me again. She'll forgive me. If it takes me until the end of time, she'll forgive me. And she will be with me. Randy Orton can bank on that.

The MRI before _No Way Out_ should tell me that I'm in good enough shape to compete. I'm walking just fine on it, trying to do light exercises on it to keep the muscles strong. A minor setback, but everything is going to work out just fine in the end. Then, I'll be heading on to _WrestleMania XX_ and the rise of John Cena will begin. I'm going to be the biggest thing in this industry since Hulk Hogan. I know it. I can feel it. The fans are all on my side; they'll be eating out of the palm of my hands.

On a side note, the album is going great. My cousin and I are ready to start recording it pretty soon. I'm going to be the triple threat; the actor, the rapper, the wrestler. Fans are going to flock to see me. It may take a little while, but I completely intend on becoming the face of the WWE.

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

Randy's been a guardian angel and a half to me today. We drove in silence back to his home. I was thankful to be out of the townhouse; Randy seemed to know that it was just what I needed. He pulled the car to a stop and rested his hand over mine on my lap.

"I'm really sorry things turned out this way, Amberlea," he told me softly. I nodded; the words weren't hollow, but I still felt like there was only so many times I could hear the words before I became numb to them.

Grabbing my bag out of the backseat of the car, I followed Randy up the driveway to the front door. My phone has been ringing off the hook with messages, but I just couldn't be bothered to answer any questions or hear about their sympathy. Not today. I just wanted time to be by myself with Randy and see if I can put things in perspective. See if I can get my head around things. Good luck on that one.

Inside, I slid my shoes off, putting my bag down in the front hallway. Randy scooped me into his arms for a hug. I clutched him tightly for dear life, afraid to let go of him. His hand ran through my hair, stroking it soothingly as I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of his cologne. Obsession For Men. His favourite.

"Are you going to be all right?" he asked. "This wasn't a bad idea, was it?"

"No. I'm just…really thankful to have you around. I don't know where I'd be without you right now."

"Try not to think about that," he teased. He pulled back from the hug, staring me in the eyes. "You just have the most beautiful eyes," he complimented. Realizing he was getting to drawn into the moment, he pulled back. "Why don't you settle into the living room? I'll make dinner and we'll watch some _Blade_."

"That sounds like a great plan, Randy. I'd totally be up for that." I was going to move into the living room, but I stopped, turning to him. "Can I help with dinner tonight at all?"

"No. Not at all. You just go and get rested. You're my guest tonight; I'm going to treat you like a princess." I blushed, but went into the living room while Randy disappeared into the kitchen.

Randy's living room was immaculately decorated, with photos on the wall of him as a child with Andre The Giant, Ric Flair, his parents. There were photos of him and I; he had obviously gone to great lengths already to take John off of the walls.

I sank down on the leather sofa, face-to-face with his big screen TV, one of the first major purchases he had made after being signed with WWE. The walls were a beautiful cream colour. The entire house had just a beautiful, serene atmosphere. Well, with the exception of the creepy snake in his bedroom.

When Randy came back with dinner ready, my breath was taken away. "You knew I was coming over here today, didn't you?"

"No, actually. I put the roast in my crock pot this morning before I came out. I figured I'd be home in time for dinner; good thing I made it." He sat down beside me on the couch.

"You don't strike me as a crock pot kind of guy," I replied. Randy snickered.

"My mom got it for me. Actually, this was the first time using it. Is it good?"

"Yeah huh."

_**Randy Orton**_

Amberlea was asleep, rested against my chest in what had to be one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. Her crying had finally stopped; we had spent the night together watching old Roger Corman movies and eating dill pickle popcorn. Now we were in my bed, cuddled together, my arm around her shoulders, her arm around my stomach. What an intense day.

For the life of me, I still can't figure out what possessed John to do this. Especially to Amberlea, who was supposed to be sacred to the two of us. I could kill him for this. But a part of me thinks it was his attempt to mark her as his territory. To say that he had her first, maybe in hopes that I would back away from her. But I don't care. It bothers me, yes, but I'm not going to look at her any differently because John drugged her and took advantage of her. At the end of the day she's still the Amberlea Brennan that I know and love, and all the drugs and debauchery in the world will never take that away from me.

Considering all she's been through, I didn't bother making a move tonight. She's so vulnerable right now, whether or not she will admit it. John had done a pretty horrible thing, and she'll be reeling for a while from his betrayal. Plus, truthfully, I'm a huge chicken. One of these days, I'll be able to, but she knows how I feel, and at the moment, it's definitely good enough for me.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

_**John Cena**_

"Lea! Lea, don't walk away from me! Lea!"

We were backstage at Madison Square Garden at _WrestleMania XX_ and for the first time since the altercation on her front lawn, I was seeing her. She had gone out and cut her hair to her shoulders, wearing her hair elegantly over her face tonight.

She looked hot tonight; dressed in a black corseted mini dress with black ribbon and knee high boots. Since everything had happened, she hadn't answered my calls, my emails and had started hanging out non-stop with Evolution. When she saw me tonight, her eyes widened like she had seen a ghost, before she turned on her heels and started walking away from me. I ran up to her, stopping in front of her. "Lea, talk to me."

"Get away from me, John."

"Lea, don't be like this."

"You have no right lecturing me on my behaviour, John." I clamped my mouth shut. She tried to storm off, but I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back. She stared at me, her eyes wide in fear. "Come with me." She shook out of my grasp.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, John."

"Can't you at least hear me out?"

"There's nothing to hear me out. There is absolutely nothing that you can say that will excuse what you did to me. I don't even think you deserve the opportunity to try."

"You're being unfair."

"You're one to talk."

"What's with your mouth, Lea? I always knew Orton was a bad influence."

"_Randy_ has been my knight in shining armour, John. You have no business saying anything about him considering the things that you've done."

"Will you stop being dramatic? We shared a moment."

"I was unconscious for it, you ass!"

"Lea, please…don't be like this. I need you."

"You _need_ me? Maybe you should have thought about that before you did what you did, John. Do you have any idea how it felt, looking in your eyes and knowing that everything Randy was saying was _true_? How pathetic you looked." The coldness in her voice was taking me aback, but I think I was hiding it pretty well. "Nobody wanted to believe you were capable of such a horrible thing, John. _Nobody_. Especially not me. And now you want me to forgive you because everybody's mad at you? Because you _need_ me? Well, you know what? If this is what I'm going to get out of you, I don't need _you_."

"You don't mean that."

"I do mean that, John. I've had a few months to think about things. And I'm still hurt. Am I going to forgive you? I don't know. There's a good chance down the line that I might, but right now the best you can do is dream about it, because it's not happening now."

I felt a small glimmer of hope when she said that. She glared past me. "You're opening the show. You'd better get going." With that, she turned on her heels and walked away from me, leaving me floored in the hallway.

_**Randy Orton**_

"I am so proud of you, Amberlea!"

She had just told the guys and I about her run-in with John Cena and how she had managed to stand her ground. The first time that she had seen him since everything had happened, she was understandably anxious, her chest heaving with shallow breathing, her body quaking with adrenaline. Dave and I approached her and gave her hugs. "Thanks, guys," she replied, clutching me tightly. "I didn't expect to run into him; it just kind of threw me off."

"That's understandable, Lea," Dave replied. "But you did good. We're all proud of how far you've come in the last couple of months."

"Thank you, Dave. I appreciate that," she replied, her eyes shining with unshed tears." We led her back to the couch and she sat down between us to start watching the show. John was opening the show, with a match against the Big Show for the United States Champion. Dave, Ric and I have a match later on against Rock and Foley. It's been a total dream working with those guys. Between Dwayne, Mick, Ric, Dad and Hunter I have learned so much about the business. It's extraordinary.

Madison Square Garden has always been a dream place to work. My dad was here at the very first _WrestleMania_, and now, here I am, at _WrestleMania XX_, getting ready to make my debut on the grandest stage in WWE.

Hunter vowed to stay with Amberlea while we went out to the ring and had our match. It was a fun match; Dwayne is always a really fun, energetic and smart guy to be around. We both go back a long ways in the business; with his father and grandfather being professional wrestlers as well.

When the match was over and we had won, I made it back to the locker room to hang out with Amberlea. She waited out on the couch, watching the show as Dave and I cleaned up. I was excited to just drop down on the couch beside her and watch the rest of the show; the main event with Shawn Michaels, Hunter and Chris Benoit was guaranteed to be entertaining. The big match I was looking forward to was the Brock Lesnar-Bill Goldberg match. It was a dream match; I think it was a safe assumption to say that everybody was excited to see it.

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

Randy and I were laughing as we made it back to my hotel room. I was rooming with Trish, but she was out partying with Christian, Jericho, Eddie and Benoit, who had just won his first WWE World Heavyweight Championship. Randy and I had stopped at our hotel bar for a drink or two and now we were back up here, snickering and laughing at what a horrible match Brock-Goldberg had been.

"I can just imagine the smoke coming out of Vince's ears," Randy replied, shutting the door behind him. I was leaned against the wall, laughing at the idea of steam coming from Vince's ears. Thankfully, Brock and Bill both had already announced intentions to leave; if not, they would have most definitely been fired for this.

The laughter stopped; the room became thick with silence. Randy was standing in front of me now; I could sense things were different in the atmosphere. His hands were on either side of my hips, pressed against the wall. Sandwiching me between the wall and him, he pressed his lips against mine. I felt instant sparks. My hands moved up his stomach, resting on his chest. He pulled back, staring at me. I could only imagine how I looked; that elfish, mischievous grin spread across his face. Before I could say anything more, he loomed in and kissed me again. This time I kissed him back, linking my arms around his neck. Every nerve ending sizzled. His hands moved from the wall to my hips, though he pushed me harder against the wall. He pulled back.

"I've been waiting to do that for so long," he confessed, kissing the tip of my nose. I rubbed the surface of his black muscle shirt, resting my head against his chest.

"I've been waiting for you to do that for a while," I confessed. He held me tightly against him, stroking my hair. "What took you so long?"

"I didn't want you to think I was taking advantage," he replied. I held him tighter. He sighed. "Wow…I don't know about you, but that…was…incredible."

"Yeah huh," I breathed, staring up into his eyes. He brought a hand under my chin, tilting my head up and kissing me again. Every time our lips touched, I felt my heart quicken, felt the sparks fly. He pulled back.

"You get some rest tonight, and I will see you tomorrow for breakfast, all right?"

"Randy…what does this mean for us?"

"Whatever you want it to, Amberlea," he said to me, smiling. I brushed my hands against his face.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Amberlea. Get some rest." He gave me another kiss on the forehead before leaving me alone in my hotel room.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

_**Randy Orton**_

I spent the entire night dreaming of the kiss that Amberlea and I had shared. The jolts that rushed through me I never expected to feel. Just incredible; I never thought that a kiss could feel like that. I feel like such a dork to be so starstruck and awestruck by such a beautiful woman, but I'm kind of thankful that John really fucked things up with her. I feel like I got a lucky break.

Dave totally knew something was up the second I walked back into the hotel room with an enormous, dreamy smile on my face. He had texted Ric about it, gushing that I had finally made my move on Amberlea and that it appeared to be a success. I could barely get a word out thanks to the succession of rapid-fire questions Dave spouted off at me. He was one of those kiss and tell types; it always seemed to get him into trouble more often than not.

Now, I'm on a flight home; Amberlea's leaving in the afternoon after her photo shoot for the company website. It was set to be a pretty cute photo shoot, judging from the lime green minidress she was going to be wearing for it. She said that we would meet up when she got home and have a date night to make things official. I agreed, but now I feel stuck; after all, I want to make sure it's perfect, but I have no idea what to do, how to do it, or where to start.

It's been a whirlwind of a year. It still stuns me to know that we started off, Amberlea, John and I, as the second coming of the Three Amigos; thick as thieves, supportive of one another, best friends for life. Now John and I can't be in the same room together, I'm together with Amberlea and John has betrayed her in a way that is pretty disgusting by any standards. It's still hard to get my head around what happened, but I'm glad Amberlea is with me. Never in a million years will I let anything else happen to her.

I never thought John would change the way he did. There's a huge part of me that realizes I'll never understand just what the hell he was thinking or what possessed him to change so much. It bothers me; after all, he was one of my best friends. We were roommates once. But it seems like somewhere out there, John got this air of superiority over him. He thinks he can have anyone, anything, but he was too much of a coward to come right out and tell Amberlea he feels something for her. He took the coward's way out to get what he wanted and hurt her beyond belief, taking something of hers that she'll never get back in the process.

A few fans caught me in the airport when I landed, asking to take photos and autographs. I'm amazed I haven't given out autographs to everyone in the St. Louis area. I posed, shook hands with a few fans, answered a few questions, and then went to get my bags from baggage claim. I think one fan was put off that I had to leave and get my bags and go home, but oh well. We're human. We have things to do just like anybody else.

Amberlea would be touching down at about six. I wanted to be here to pick her up and take her out for dinner. The fans would probably snap photos and it would wind up on the Internet, but what do I care? I'm amazed I haven't scaled a mountain to shout it out yet.

* * *

_**John Cena**_

I can't believe Amberlea talked to me the way that she did.

The hate in her eyes was unmistakeable. It was mixed with hurt and a few other emotions that I can't put my fingers on. She had looked so hot in that miniskirt of hers, with her hands on her hips, her hair falling beautifully around her face. It was pretty hot when she laid into me, too. I've never seen her so agitated, so angry. She's so beautiful, but when she's angry, she's a red-hot fox.

I'm stuck in a car, driving to the arena for the _SmackDown _tapings. I'm the new United States Champion, and I have a meeting on Thursday about crafting a brand-new customized Spinner Championship. It's gonna take a few months to make, but it's going to look amazing when it's done. I'm officially an upper mid-carder now, and the main event is almost in my fingertips. It's great. It's amazing.

My phone went off. It was Matt Hardy. He just heard Amberlea Brennan and Randy Orton are officially dating; he wants to know what I think about it. What the fuck does he expect me to think? I pulled over on the side of the road to take a breather for a few minutes, to let the rage in me subside. He stole her away from me. He turned her against me. Now she hates me and he has her all to himself. For as long as I live, I will never in a million years forgive Randy for the rift that he caused between us.

* * *

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

Randy was there to meet me at the airport when I got off the plane, dressed nicely in an un-tucked baby blue button-down shirt and dark jeans, a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. An enormous smile crossed his features when we spotted each other. I tried to rush towards him, but got mobbed by a few fans. Shooting him a helpless look, I signed, took photos, and then they harassed Randy as I made it to him. He handed me the flowers right in front of the fans, who catcalled us like a bunch of high school kids. Flashing me a grin, he leaned forward and kissed me, eliciting an enormous reaction. The familiar burn of embarrassment washed over me. We gathered my bags from baggage claim and left the airport.

"You know that it's going to be all over the web now, right?"

"Is that a problem?"

"No. I just know how private you like to be." He grabbed my hand, leading me towards his car. "What is the game plan for tonight? Thank you for picking me up tonight, by the way. That was a pleasant surprise."

"I made reservations for dinner at seven; which means you have -" he checked his watch, "About an hour to get ready once we get you home."

"I think I can manage that," I teased. "How was your flight?"

"Great. I managed to get a little bit of sleep. How about yours?"

"I slept through the flight. I didn't sleep to well last night. Between the Evolution boys and Chris Jericho, I don't know if I can handle the liver damage."

"You were sick all night, weren't you?"

"I was. Thankfully Trish made a run for some Gatorade, Gravol and Tylenol and it cleared things up pretty well, I think." I leaned back against the seat. "So where are we going?"

"Just a little place I know," he informed me. Once we had gotten home and I had gotten ready, he took me to this nice little café, where they had musicians playing on an open mic. Even though I had just been through a lot, the entire evening felt magical. Sitting across from Randy was like magic, listening to him telling stories about how he found the place, how long he had been coming to it for. The food was great, the atmosphere was relaxed. I felt myself swept up in the magic of the night.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm all right," I confessed. "I'm hurt, but I'll work past it." He put his hand over mine, his eyes shining with understanding, with comfort.

"I know you will. And I promise, I'm going to be keeping both of my eyes on you. Nothing like this is ever going to happen again."

"You can't promise that," I replied absently, sipping my soda. Randy smirked.

"I can damn sure try."

"I appreciate that, Randy. Look, let's just drop this for tonight, all right? It's going to be a beautiful night. I just want to enjoy it." He nodded, dropping the subject. We went back to talking about current plans for him. If what the rumblings were saying was correct, Vince was about to turn Randy baby face very soon.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

_**John Cena**_

A change has come over Lea, and I don't like it.

She's started wearing a lot more black than usual. With the exception of her in-ring gear, she's stopped dressing up, trading in the tight jeans for baggy sweatpants and T-shirts. She always looks sloppy now, she's stopped wearing makeup.

There are whispers going around back here that she and Randy are together, but whenever I see him, Randy doesn't look happy either. Maybe she's spoiled for him, maybe he's spoiled for her. It's hard to say. Either way, I still can't get in there and make any sort of a move. Everybody's been keeping her away from me.

Tonight, I'm backstage at a house show, playing video games with Chavo. He just lost his uncle, Eddie, and we're all pretty devastated by the suddenness of it all. His funeral is going to be next week. Something is going on with Amberlea, however, as apparently she's told Vickie privately that she won't be able to attend due to some family things that are beyond her control. Chavo is mystified by the new Amberlea Brennan, who seems to be shrinking away from her old self at an alarming speed.

"What do you think is wrong with her? You two have a falling out or something?"

"Or something," I answered, not wanting to go into any further details. Chavo knew better than to push for them. He selected himself in the new video game and I chose mine. "Do you think she has anything going on that she doesn't want us knowing about?"

"More than likely. Whatever it is, it looks like it's wearing on Randy as well," Chavo confessed. "He seems to have slipped back into his moodiness."

"Good for him," I murmured under my breath, but Chavo didn't catch it. He had way too much on his mind at the moment to really give a rat's ass about the soap opera saga with Randy, Lea and I.

_**Randy Orton**_

I'm scared to death for Amberlea.

She's started drinking more, I've noticed in the last couple of months. Amberlea seems to hold her liquor pretty well, but it seems like she's shoving me out of her life. I can't figure out just what's going on with her, but I have the feeling that it has to do with what John did to her.

Amberlea's sold her townhouse. I guess with John inside of her house, she just can't handle being there anymore. I offered her to come with me, Charlie's offered her to move back home with him, but she wants to be alone. She's moved across the city, to a place that only Charlie and I know about.

She's stopped wearing makeup, stopped dressing up. It's like she's ashamed of her body, like she's ashamed of herself. Last week, I had to take her to the hospital for her first anxiety attack. The doctors have her on Xanax for the interim to keep her nice and docile. I wish I had some idea of what's running in her head.

"You're really worried about her, aren't you, son?"

"Yeah. I don't know where we're standing, and I don't know where she's standing, and my head is just fucked," I confessed, putting a mug of coffee in front of Dad. We were sitting at my coffee table, talking about what was going on. "I shouldn't have kissed her. I knew better. She's in a bad space. I'm no fucking better than John."

"That's not true," Bob insisted. "You care about her a lot. We've always been able to see it with you two. She was the only thing that could light up that moody face of yours." Randy smirked. "She's in a bad spot right now, and granted, I'm sure what happened made things complicated, but you just need to be there for her, Randy. When her head is finally all pieced back together, then things will be fine. But you'll just need to be patient, which I know is not your strong suit."

"Thanks, Dad." I hanged my head in my hands. "Is this something you think she can recover from? He treated her like she was no better than some animal, Dad. The worst part is that is how she remembers the first time."

"It is bad," Bob agreed. "Really, really bad. Despicable. But when she needs to lean on you, you need to be there. Charlie isn't going to be able to see her through this. She's more than likely too embarrassed to really talk to Charlie about this stuff."

"You're right about that. God, I just wish there was more I could do. I don't want to lose her."

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

_**With a glass of red wine in my hand, I hung another black T-shirt over the bathroom mirror, satisfied when it was completely blocked off. "Poof - bitch be gone," I murmured dryly, walking out of the bathroom, into the stacks upon stacks of boxes inside my new house. **_

_**It's a nice little place. Two storey, with three bedrooms and a nice big bathroom. The house itself is white, with a white picket fence and a nice big backyard where I can one day have barbecues and yard parties. Not until I get unpacked though…**_

_**Lately, I've been thinking a lot. About everything. I still see the looks John gives me when we're at the same pay-per-views, like I'm some piece of meat waiting to be taken again. Just looking at him makes me feel dirty, disgusting, like a worthless whore. In the past few months, I've been finding it harder and harder to get out of bed in the mornings, ashamed with myself. **_

_**The Xanax has been helping, I guess. I hate that I'm reduced to taking pills to function like a normal human being, but life isn't always about what one wants, is it? I've been learning that lately, and, frankly, it's a bitch. I took a big gulp of red wine and sat down on the couch, deciding I didn't want to unpack anymore. I hadn't even started. Boxes upon boxes were still stacked up against the walls, but I didn't care enough to empty them out. John was in those boxes, Randy was in those boxes. I'm in those boxes. At the moment, I wish I could just vaporize. **_


	36. The Dream Is Dead

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

* * *

"Please rethink your stance, Lea. You can't do this."

"I've been thinking this through long and hard for a few weeks now, Vince. I'm dealing with way too many personal issues right now and it's affecting my job. I have to quit." Vince wasn't happy, I could tell, but he knew better than to refuse me this. He looked like he was really seeing me for the first time, even though I had been under contract to him for some time.

"Do you want more money, Lea? Do you want to be Women's Champion? We could always send you down to FCW and become a trainer there." I shook my head. There wasn't any amount of money in the world that was going to make me stay. That's how adamant I was about my decision.

"It's not about money, Vince. I need to go away and get my head in order."

"Is this about going to TNA?"

"What? No, Vince, you've missed the point entirely," I said, exasperated. "Vince, I need to go away and work on me for a little while. This has nothing to do with wrestling, it has to do with me. Please don't make this difficult."

Vince studied me for what felt like forever. I found myself fidgeting under his glance. Christian took off for TNA a month ago, and Vince is in a panic that a bunch of his talent is going to defect. WWE is my home. I have no intention of going anywhere else. But I have to take this sabbatical and go away. Getting away from John is the only thing that's going to make me feel better. I can't stop thinking about things. I'm drinking more. I don't want to be inside my own skin, or inside my own head anymore. I just don't want to be _here_.

Vince nodded. "All right, Lea. If that's the way you feel, then I'm going to allow this. But I'm trusting you. I understand that there has been something going on with you, and I am concerned. Don't think that I'm not. Does it have anything to do with the rumors I'm hearing about John Cena?"

"Vince, please. I just need to go for a while." I'm sure that gave Vince some kind of confirmation, but I don't even care anymore. "I hate to do this, Vince. I worked my entire life to get here. You have no idea how hard this is for me, but I have to get myself sorted out."

"I understand, Lea," he told me. "But I refuse to release you. Consider it a sabbatical. The door is still open, and we'll revisit your contract when you come back. Okay?"

"I appreciate that," I said, standing and shaking his hand. "Thank you. I will never, ever forget this."

"I wish you all the best, Lea. Get yourself taken care of." I gathered the bags I left at the door and left his office, making my way down the hallway towards the exit. I'm going home. Goodbye to the WWE.

I found Randy talking to Trish. His face darkened when he saw me. I walked towards him, wrapping my free arm around his neck and kissing his cheek. "Goodbye," I whispered. I pulled away from him and continued walking, leaving him standing with Trish, confused as I made a beeline for the door that would take me down to the parking lot.

Once I was in my rental car, I took a few moments to cry. It felt like I was giving up my dream. It felt like I was falling apart. Saying goodbye to the dream was the only option that I had for the foreseeable future. Wiping the tears away from my eyes with the back of my hand, I started the car and peeled out of the parking lot, driving away into the night.

* * *

_**Randy Orton**_

* * *

I turned to Trish. "Um, what the fuck just happened?" I asked. She shrugged, her face darkened in confusion, just like mine. Her hands were on her hips, our eyes on the door that led to the parking lot.

"I have no idea what that was, but it was weird," she conceded. "I know she just came from Vince's office. She said she was going to take an important meeting with him tonight. Maybe you should ask him about it." I nodded, grabbing Trish by the wrist and leading her towards Vince's office with me. I didn't bother knocking, I just walked in. Vince was sitting behind his desk, flanked by Johnny Ace and Jim Ross. Their gazes fell on us.

"What the hell is going on with Amberlea?" I demanded. Vince glared at me.

"Don't you knock, Orton?"

"Did you fire her, Vince?" I raged. It was the only logical conclusion that was coming to me, since she left early with her bags in tow. I know it's been clear to everybody that Amberlea is falling apart. He must have decided to cut the liability. "Hasn't she been through enough?" Vince raised his hand to silence me. Trish put a hand on my arm to calm me down, but I was ready to run amok.

"I didn't fire her, Randy. She wanted to quit."

"What?"

"She wanted to quit. I offered her more money. I offered her a trainer's job. I even offered her the Women's title. She didn't want any of it. She just wanted to leave." I could see Vince looked frazzled about the exchange. It was impossible for me not to feel the same way. "I didn't fire her, Randy. I didn't let her quit, either. I put her on sabbatical. It's completely up to her when she decides to come back, if she ever decides to. I told her we'd figure it out when she gets herself back together."

I sank into the nearest chair and put my head in my hands. "Honest to God, Vince, I don't know how to save her," I confessed. I felt lost, helpless. She was drifting from me. I've never felt so bereft and defeated in my entire life.

Trish put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I wish I knew what was going on in that head of hers. I looked up at Vince, who surprised me by stating what we were all thinking.

"I'm worried about her."

"You and me both," I said, letting my head fall back into my hands.

* * *

_**John Cena**_

* * *

I'm hearing that Lea quit, but I can't get anyone to give me a straight story.

I've been wondering what's been going on in that head of hers. She hasn't been the same since Randy dropped the nuclear bomb on our friendship. Christy's been whispering lately that Lea is drinking more, afraid that she's becoming a full-blown alcoholic. I'm wondering if she quit because Christy couldn't keep her mouth shut.

Losing Lea is a huge blow to me, and a huge blow to this company. She is one of the best Divas here, one of those girls that spends all of her time honing her craft. Apparently that makes her less marketable than some of the other Divas that's been coming into this company. She was a reliable, technical hand.

I have a sneaking suspicion that Randy talked her into quitting, as a way to keep her away from me. I don't understand how she could let Randy talk her into quitting. This was all she ever wanted, and she was getting to the top of the game. Vince letting her do this is the biggest head-scratcher of them all, though. I know he's been paranoid about people leaving for TNA for quite some time now, and here he is letting one of his best Divas slip through his fingertips.

Is Lea Brennan going to TNA? I don't know.

I just wish someone would give me the straight story.

* * *

_**Amberlea Brennan**_

* * *

I checked my messages when I touched back down in St. Louis to find a voice-mail message from Randy. It was late, very late, and all I wanted to do was get home and sleep. I didn't listen to the message, but I was pretty sure that I knew what he wanted to say. Daddy left me a message, too. I didn't listen to it, but I knew he had spoken to Randy, who had probably figured out what was going on at this point.

I know Daddy's worried about me. Him and half of the world. I gathered my bags from baggage claim and called a cab to take me home. Every few moments I thought about calling Randy back, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I just want to be left alone. Instead of calling him back, I just shut off my phone. Everyone wants answers from me, everyone wants me to act like everything is okay, like I wasn't drugged and raped like some kind of animal. Nothing is okay. I don't think anything will ever be okay again.

The cab arrived and I slid in, resting my duffel bag beside me on the seat. I gave him my home address and we took off. With a deep, all-consuming sigh, I rested my head against the cold glass of the backseat window, glad to be going home. There was a bottle of red wine with my name on it on the kitchen counter, and a few bottles of flavored vodka in the freezer. I planned to drink until I couldn't remember the last few months.

There's nothing I can do now but move on and piece together my life. I know it's supposed to be a sabbatical, but I've got no intention of going back.

The dream is dead to me now.


End file.
